


Pretty little junkies

by Bellelaide



Series: Junk Dilemmas #13 [2]
Category: Trainspotting
Genre: Edinburgh, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, T2, trainspotting - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9699758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellelaide/pseuds/Bellelaide
Summary: Renton thought there wis always something about Simon Williamson.





	1. Chapter 1

The next time it happened was a few weeks later. 

Sick Boy had come home that night his usual self, blethering away as though nothing had happened between them. Renton was glad of it; as it probably meant less awkwardness for him. 

He was glad of it at the time, and over the next few days, but then he started to get annoyed about the whole thing. He had let Simon get him off and hadn't had the chance to reciprocate, something which irritated him because:

A - Sick Boy now had something to dangle over his head should the notion strike him, and  
B - he was naturally curious about the whole thing and thought any experience was good experience, feeling almost robbed by Simon of the chance to gain a few more skills. 

That's how he justified the growing desire in his gut anyway - healthy curiosity. 

It didn't explain why he thought of Sick Boy now when he wanked off and was almost overcome with jealousy when he spoke about birds he was shagging, but Renton decided not to think too deeply about that. Those were issues to be addressed another day. 

They were all in the Cenny on Friday night, drinking and laughing and having a rare good night. Begbie wasn't even pissing anyone off; it was just one of those times that they all seemed to mesh. 

They were still off gear, for the time being, but a dab of speed here and there kept their spirits high and energy levels fizzing. 

Renton was in conversation with Tommy about the best Bowie song, Tommy parroting on animatedly about Modern Love. Mark wasn't listening, his attentions on Sick Boy, who was leaning into Lesley at the bar, her body language implying he was definitely getting a shag tonight. 

"Geez a minute Tommy," Renton suddenly said, unsure if it was the alcohol, the speed or just complete mindlessness that spurned this newfound burst of confidence. 

He walked up to where Sick Boy and Lesley were flirting, standing in front of them with his arms crossed, glaring at them both. 

Sick Boy looked at him and back at Lesley, willing him to fuck off - whatever he was after, Sick Boy was busy, and Renton could clearly see that. 

When he didn't move, Sick Boy looked at him imploringly and barked "Aye?!" 

"A want to talk tae you in private." Renton said, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. 

"Aye well no the now, talk tae us the morra." Sick Boy turned back to Lesley, widening his eyes at her in silent apology. 

"Naw, am no waiting tae tomorra. It's aboot that thing. Eh, the other night." He ventured bravely, heart beating fast as fuck. 

Sick Boy's head spun and he looked at Renton like he was mad. "Awright, fine, make it quick and keep yer fuckin voice doon," he hissed, excusing himself from Lesley's presence. 

They moved to a corner of the pub, Renton completely unsure how this was going to go down, beyond thankful for the confidence the drugs in his system were granting. 

"Right, so," he began, staring at his feet, "A was thinkin and a dinny think what we did the other day wis fair - a think a should be allowed to like, return the favour likesy. It's no fair you get aw the experience and a get nout. Obviously if ye dinny wanty then witever but a think ye dae. Wanty let me, a mean." He spoke in a garbled rush, flush creeping across his cheeks. Fuckin ginger skin. 

He looked up and Sick Boy was staring at him, brows furrowed slightly, lips parted. 

"Dinny look at me like that," Renton scowled, feeling really fucking stupid all of a sudden. 

"Like wit?! Sorry, a just canny... ye wanty dae stuff? Wae me?" 

"Fuck sake Si, aye, that's wit am saying, dinny make me fuckin spell it oot. Jist cos it was awrite when it happened last time and a ken wae you it's no seedy or that cos we're pals and we're no bufties." He looked at him and let out a breath. "Aye or naw?" 

Sick Boy looked at the group and back to Renton, weighing up the pros and cons in his mind. Leave with Rents, get to do out of the ordinary shit and add some more notches to his bedpost. Leave with Les, get to fuck a braw lassie, even if for the hundredth time. 

"Get yer coat then." He turned around and walked back to the group, making his excuses, downing the last of his pint. Renton bounded to the table and grabbed his coat without looking at anyone, not trusting his face to not betray him to all their pals, mortified at the thought of them knowing what they were about to do. 

The pair walked out in unison, leaving the door swinging behind them, Begbie muttering a comment about them "probably away to stuff their veins wi shite, stupit cunts." 

\---------

Sick Boy pulled off his coat and flopped heavily on the couch, spreading his legs and motioning to Renton to sit between them. 

Renton did, eyes hungrily taking in his friend's clothed body, heart hammering and mind running wild. 

"Should a just..." he started, hovering over Sick Boy's belt. Simon nodded, sliding his hips down a touch to give Renton better access. 

"Dinny be shy Rent Boy," he joked, flashing his winning smile, trying to mask the thirst he was currently experiencing. 

Renton started unbuckling his belt, noting it was the same brown leather number they'd used as a tourniquet multiple times in the past. Having finished that he unbuttoned Sick Boy's jeans and pulled his zip down, hands trembling, much to his fucking embarrassment. 

"Mark." Sick Boy was looking at him, concern etched into his eyes, "Ur ye absolutely sure?" 

It was a rare moment of softness from Sick Boy and it almost made Renton want to cry, overwhelmed with how much he wanted this and how he'd probably do anything his friend asked him to right now, no questions asked. 

He nodded and smiled, tucking his fingers into the waist band of Sick Boy's jeans and boxers and tugging, grateful when Simon lifted his hips obligingly and not pressing him any further. 

Renton had seen Sick Boy's dick hundreds of times before, but he still felt his breath leave his lungs at the sight of it, lying between his legs, thick and long and beginning to fatten up. 

Renton gingerly put his hands on Sick Boy's knees and leant down, kissing his hip, completely unsure how to start. He mouthed along his inner thigh, nipping lightly with his teeth and enjoying the sight of Sick Boy's hardening dick. 

"Dae ye wanty suck me off or kiss ma fuckin legs?" Simon said impatiently, bucking his hips towards Renton's face. 

"Aye Si, geez a minute man, am tryin to get ye intae it," Renton huffed, aware of his own growing hardness in his Levis. 

Sick Boy snorted, running his hands through his hair. "Am clearly intae it, gon just fuckin get on wae - " he lost his words as Renton put his hand around Sick Boy's cock, poking his tongue out and licking him gently, marvelling at the taste and surprised at how soft his skin was. 

Sick Boy's dick jumped in Renton's hand, encouraging him to open his mouth and begin taking in his length. He started moving his head quickly, haphazardly, overwhelmed suddenly by how he couldn't really breathe and all but choking as Simon's hips suddenly bucked forward, his dick hitting the back of Renton's throat and just about causing him to panic. 

The next thing he felt was Sick Boy's hand against his forehead, pushing him off his cock and allowing him to gasp for breath, a tear leaking out of the corner of his eye. 

"Rents, fuck, are you awright?!" Sick Boy patted him on the back, rubbing soothing circles into his t-shirt. 

"Aye, sorry, am sorry, a just got a fright," Renton croaked, voice straining already. He looked at Sick Boy's still solid cock, curving against his stomach and grabbed for it, worried Sick Boy would put a stop to the whole thing or cringe at Renton's lack of talent in this particular field. 

Sick Boy pushed him back again by the shoulders, pupils enormous but filled with concern. "Take it slowly Rents," he said, "Breathe a wee bit, al still be here in five minutes." He half laughed, watching as his pal tried to get his breaths under control, one of his hands gripping Sick Boy's ankle to help anchor him. 

"We dinny have to dae this, al let ye try again another night," he spoke softly, glad when Renton's breathing normalised and his flush began to recede. Renton shook his head no, determined to finish what he'd started, terrified he'd never get Sick Boy in such a good mood again. "Right, if yer sure. And am sorry about that, al keep still this time. Jist take what ye kin and go slowly." He sat back again, looking at his still thoroughly interested cock leaking against his hip. 

Renton settled between Sick Boy's thighs again and this time lowered himself slowly, only taking what he was comfortable with and getting used to the feel of it in his mouth before he begun moving. 

He started getting more into it, finding his stride, growing more confident by the minute. Sick Boy's pants grew into groans which grew into him babbling shite, one hand gripping the sofa white knuckled and one coming to rest in Renton's tufty ginger hair. He was obviously trying very hard to keep still, which Renton appreciated, but he half wished he'd shut up with the dirty talk. 

"A think your mooth wis made tae suck cock Rent Boy," he spat out, "fuckin knew those lips wid look braw around a cock." He tugged Renton's hair gently, unable to take his eyes off the sight below him. 

"Fuck that's barry, fuuuuck," he groaned, hips bucking marginally, precome smearing all over Renton's tongue. "Wish ye could fuckin see yersel man - fuck aye dae that again, goan - "

Renton popped off his dick, line of spit connecting his lips and Sick Boy's cock. "Av fuckin warned you aboot chattin shite!" Renton's voice was gravelly as fuck which surprised him and evidently Simon too as he closed his eyes and groaned at the sound of it. 

"Please accept ma sincerest apologies, Rents. Canny help it sometimes but," he reasoned, winking at him playfully. Renton shook his head exasperatedly and went down again, unbuttoning his own jeans with one hand and palming at his aching dick, moaning around Sick Boy at the relief of the friction. 

The vibrations this sent through Simon caused him to pull at Renton's hair and gasp, hips leaving the couch despite his best efforts, rambling "fuck fuck fuck gonna come fuck Mark" before he shot down Renton's throat, which, far be it for Renton to do anything other than swallow it back, reasoning that he'd ingested much worse in the past. 

He sat back on his heels, wiping his hand on the back of his mouth, Sick Boy's dick going flacid against his thigh, head tipped back, breaths leaving his body heavily. 

Renton rested his head against Sick Boy's bare knee and wondered how inappropriate it would be for him to tug himself off right now. He decided it was probably okay and wrapped his hand around himself, coming in short sharp bursts all over the floor and the back of the couch and - 

"Did you jist come aw aer ma fuckin shoes?!" Sick Boy shouted, pushing mark on his arse and gaping at his semen covered boots. "Fuckin hell Mark ya doss cunt!" 

"You just came down ma fuckin throat ya radge!! A didny fuckin mean it!" Renton shouted back in outrage. 

He didn't know which one of them laughed first but suddenly they were both creased, Renton eventually getting up fishing a couple of cigarettes out of Sick Boy's coat pocket. He lit one and passed it to Sick Boy before lighting the second and flopping down onto the couch next to him, inhaling and allowing the nicotine to send him light headed. 

"Not bad at aw Rent Boy, there's a career in there fur ye yet." Sick Boy laughed. 

"Fuck off ya prick." Renton elbowed Sick Boy gently. "Thanks, Si." He said, sheepish. 

"Anythin fur ma fans, Rents, ye ken that." Sick Boy replied, jumping off the couch and toeing his boots off, kicking them into the corner. "Get they boots washed or ye'll never see ma splendid appendage again." He stalked into the kitchen, leaving Renton alone in the living room, shaking his head in exasperated fondness. 

\---------- 

Mark blew Simon twice more that night, and again when he woke up in the morning. 

He got under the covers, shucked Sick Boy's boxers down and brought him into consciousness with licks and kisses, swallowing him down when he was hard enough. 

"Never wid have put ye down as this much ae a total cock slut, Rents." Sick Boy grunted into the damp morning air, stretching his arms out and bringing them to rest behind his head. Renton nipped the soft skin of his inner thigh in retaliation, continuing with the task at hand. 

He brought Sick Boy off nicely and was surprised when, moments after, Simon started moving down the bed, motioning to Renton to get his kit off. "Right, geez a shot, a wanty see wit aw the fuss is about." 

Of course, Sick Boy was a fucking natural when it came to sucking dick, as he was in all areas of the bedroom. It would've pissed Renton off if he wasn't benefitting hugely from the fact, wriggling around like fuck, unable to keep quiet for more than twenty seconds at a time. 

Sick Boy took his mouth off Renton and smacked him on the hip gently. "Keep fucking still. You are a nightmare, and so fuckin whiny." He chastised, going back at it with both hands pinning him firmly to the bed. He pulled off just as Renton was about to come, forcing Mark to ejaculate all over his stomach and upper thighs. 

"Aye nae bother Si, I swallowed you!" He challenged, reaching for a dirty t-shirt to mop up the mess. 

"More fool you then, as if am gaunny dae a thing like that." Sick Boy stood up and stretched then bounced into the shower, talking about his plans to do fuck knows what, fuck knows where later on. 

Renton wasn't listening. He was too busy thinking about the last 24 hours, worrying about what it made him. He got up and stood outside the bathroom. 

"Simon?" 

"Aye?"

"What we're dain... it's no... is it disgusting?" He asked quietly, head on the door frame, anxiety rearing its ugly head. 

Sick Boy didn't reply at first, then opened the bathroom door with a towel round his waist. 

"Nut. It's no weird. End ae the day, we've kent each other since we were wee laddies and there's nout we've no done the gither. We've shared needles n that so the way a see it, this is just an extension ae that. Plus, its no as if we're fuckin kissing or shaggin each other up the arse," he reasoned, "just mates helping each other out here and there." He patted Renton the cheek. "Dinny dwell on it Rent Boy!" He chirped and was off, leaving Mark in the door way considering that information. He supposed Sick Boy was right - and anyway, it wasn't a regular thing. He jumped in the shower and focussed on his plans for the next 24 hours. Skag seemed like a decent shout. 

\--------- 

It became a regular thing. 

When they weren't completely out their nuts, Renton and Sick Boy would get each other off, a lot of the time hurriedly and sloppily, hands or mouths - just whatever was easiest. 

Once they'd been at the pub with the lads and Renton had won an argument with some uni wank that someone had brought out for the night and Sick Boy was so turned on by it he blew Mark in the toilets, leaving finger shaped bruises on his hips and almost - almost - going to kiss him before he remembered where he was. 

Anyone who asked, they told them they'd been doing coke in the bogs, but Renton was certain folk were beginning to get suspicious. He had this distinct look, you see, after he came that wasn't unlike his face after a hit of heroin and given that he obviously wasn't shooting up, orgasm had to be the culprit. 

If anyone knew, they never said a word anyway, choosing to trust in the rampant heterosexuality of Simon Williamson and hardly-extraordinary-sex drive of Mark Renton. 

Sick Boy was still getting with birds here and there which ignited a flame of irritation in Renton's gut but he chose to aggressively ignore those feelings, instead focussing on his own sex life - or lack thereof. 

They were clubbing one night, buzzed on coke and 2 weeks off heroin. The lot of them were out, milling around the club, almost all on the pull - apart from Tommy who obviously had Lizzie, and Spud who was just useless at that sort of thing. 

Sick Boy was in the corner with two birds sat either side of him, filthily necking on with one and then the other slowly, as though he had all the time in the world. 

Renton started searching for a pull in earnest, grinding whoever he could on the dance floor, at first to no avail but then - yes - finally with a girl, must've been about 19 and probably a student, wearing a short strappy dress and thin heels, hair styled into bouncy curls. She was really game, wrapping her arms around his neck and lining up their waists so as to feel his dick through his jeans. 

Before he knew it they were kissing, his hands in her hair, their waists moving in a rhythm to the music. His body felt electric - it had been that long since he'd fucked anyone and the anticipation was heady. 

"Do you want to come back to my halls?" She shouted in his ear in an English accent, skin so soft on his cheek. 

He nodded yes and told her his name, finding out she was called Ruby and lived in Marchmont. Renton didn't say goodbye to any of his pals, just snuck out with Ruby, straight into a taxi and right to her flat. It was studenty as fuck but did the job. 

The sex was great, actually, and Renton found himself getting properly into it in a way he hadn't for ages. She was kinky as fuck and worked him out properly, both exhausted after the first round together. 

He woke up the next morning with her wrapped around him, feeling relaxed and loose, the smell of her shampoo caressing his senses. 

When she woke up they blethered for a bit, before he pulled his gear on, kissing her in the doorway and grabbing her number. 

He was euphoric as he walked down past the Pleasance and onto Leith Walk, a real spring in his step. Sick Boy would be proud of him, he decided, and couldn't wait to tell him everything when he got back to their flat. It had nothing to do with wanting to make Sick Boy as jealous as Renton got when the roles were reversed, not even a smidge. 

The place was empty when Renton pushed open the door. Sick Boy must've stayed with those birds - whatever, Renton mused, jumping in the shower and singing Iggy chirpily, deciding nothing was going to spoil his post sex glow. 

Renton smoked a joint and when Sick Boy didn't come home, he assumed he was meeting the rest of them at the pub for the game. Renton sprayed some aftershave, probably Sick Boy's, and headed up the Cenny to meet his mates. 

Right enough they were all there, Begbie holding court about some poor fucker he'd smashed last night for gawping at June. "'Jist cos she's prego in eh club ye hink ye kin stare it her dae ye?!' A fuckin asked the boy, geein um the benefit ae the doot like ae, well did he no get wide as fuck, mare thun entitled tae receive ma gless inty his ugly fuckin puss. Rent Boy! Where the fuck did you go ya mad shagger?!" Begbie shouted when he spotted Mark come through the door, making space for him on the sofa. 

"A wise man disny kiss n tell Beggers, but she wis fuckin tidy anyway," Renton brags, finding a pint of heavy placed before him and savouring that first cool sip. "Wee student honey. Got her number like, willny be the last time a see her." 

"Quite right ma man! See how gid life is oaf that junk?! Anyway, back tae ma story!" Begbie declared, obviously in a braw mood given that he'd let Renton steal the limelight there for all of two minutes. 

Renton looked around, eyes clocking Sick Boy. He grinned and opened his mouth to speak but Sick Boy just looked away, at the ground then back at Begbie, as if Renton wasn't there. 

"Si? Wits up?" Renton called under his breath. Sick Boy ignored him. "Sick Boy?" 

A couple of the lads were looking at Sick Boy now, wondering what was about to pop off. Begbie was still rabbeting on, unaware of the growing tension. 

"Rents is shouting oan ye, cat boy." Spud nudged Sick Boy, nodding to where Renton sat, confusion clear across his face. Sick Boy looked up at him and flashed a tight, fake smile. His eyes were heavy and dark, face pinched in discomfort. 

"Some shag then aye?" He said, and it felt patronising, judgemental. Renton recoiled. 

Begbie had picked up on the atmosphere now and was staring through slitted eyes at Sick Boy. "Wits yer fuckin hassle Simon?" He questioned evenly, unhappy at the redirection of attention. 

Sick Boy turned his palms up, shaking his head innocently at the group. "Naw nothin like, jist thought it wid have been polite, shall we say, for dear old Renton to have at least informed us of his whereabouts last night." 

Renton started laughing. "Fuck off! Are you serious?" He stopped laughing when he realised Sick Boy was. 

The rest of the lads looked between them, the heavy, charged atmosphere drawing looks from the other pub punters. 

"Listen boays, am only gonny say this wance. Wer oot fir a game here, and thurs no gonny be any trouble unless a fuckin say so. Sort it out. Now." Begbie warned, pointing between Sick Boy and Renton, before returning to his original spiel. 

Sick Boy stood up, jacket in hand, and turned on his heel, heading for the door. 

"Crabit cunt." Begbie muttered as Renton shot up in pursuit. 

"Wits your fuckin problem?!" He shouted into the street as Sick Boy strode on, Renton jogging to catch him up. He tried to stand in front of Sick Boy and waved a hand in his face. Sick Boy froze, glaring at Renton, and shrugged. 

"A don't appreciate sharing." He stated matter-of-factly, staring at Renton, eyes hard. 

Renton gaped at him first, then laughed, then gaped again. "You fucking what?" 

Sick Boy sighed and stepped around him. "Sharing. A don't share. No ma style." He kept walking in the direction of the flat. 

"Share me?! Are you saying you dinny want me to get wae people? What the absolute fuck?" Renton was completely blind sided, knowing there wasn't a possessive bone in Sick Boy's body - he'd never needed to worry about anyone straying from him, content to do all the straying himself. 

"No, Mark, am only telling you that al no be dain shit wi you for ye to go away fucking lassies at the weekend. The point ae this wis that ye couldny pull, a was helping ye out. A felt bad," he shouted over his shoulder. 

Renton froze in the street. 

"You felt sorry fur us?" His voice betrayed him because it was meant to come out angry but just sounded devastated. 

Sick Boy stopped and turned around. "Aye. Sorry if a gave ye the wrang impression." With that he took off, shoulders high, fists stuffed into his pockets. 

Renton stood there for what felt like an age. He nearly cried, nearly, but decided to set off in the direction of Swanney's flat, intent on getting absolutely fucked and blacking the last hour the fuck out. 

\--------- 

Renton spent the next consecutive days lying in Swanney's flat, taking hit after hit, determined to keep his mind occupied. 

He could tell even Swanney was judging him, as he'd not eaten in days and probably did not smell pretty. He didn't care. 

The phone went once and it was for him, but he ignored whoever had picked it up. He didn't want to speak to any cunt, ever again if he could manage. 

Each day was spent taking a hit, lying on his back with a blank mind, in an endless cycle that made him remember why heroin was his best friend. 

It must've been the fourth or fifth day, Renton couldn't be sure, that Tommy came looking for him. 

He burst into the flat, startling a couple who were shooting up and located Swanney, shouting "Where the fuck is he?!" 

"Calm down ya cunt! Where's who?" Swanney shouted back, squaring up to Tommy. Honestly, no one had any crack den etiquette these days. 

"Renton. A ken he's here." Tommy looked over Swanney's shoulder, neck craning round the corner. 

"He's in there mate. Witever yer here fur, take it outside immediately, av got a fuckin ambience to protect here." He went back to counting the cash in front of him. 

Tommy barrelled into the front room and knelt beside Renton, who was lying on the hard wood floor with his belt still wrapped around his upper arm. 

"Rents. Mark." Tommy shook him by the shoulder, Renton's eyes flickering behind his lids. "Wit the fuck huv ye done to yersel Renton? Am gaunny phone yer Ma man, fuck sake." He looked around for a phone, obviously to no avail. "Fuck this. Right, up ye get," he said as he pulled Renton up and into a fireman lift, carrying him by a half protesting Johnny Swann and out the block of flats. 

Tommy hailed a taxi and decided to take Renton back to Montague Street, knowing he'd fucking kill Tommy when he became lucid again if he woke up in his childhood bedroom. 

Tommy wasn't sure what the fuck was going on with Renton just now, but he didn't like it. Something wasn't right. 

He fished the keys out of Renton's grotty pockets and opened the front door of the flat, aware that Sick Boy had been spending time at his Mum's the last couple of days. That's how Tommy knew the fall out had been bad - Sick Boy fucking hated his Ma's place. 

Tommy manhandled Renton into the shower and flicked the cold water on, clothes and all. It was a couple of moments before Renton came round, mumbling "Wit the fuck?" And looking around the bathroom. His lids were still heavy but he was responsive, so Tommy turned the shower off and chucked a semi clean top and boxers at him. 

"Get changed and meet us in the living room." He demanded. 

Renton joined him 15 minutes later, collapsing on the bean bag with half its contents spilled out. 

"S'up Tommo?" Renton asked slowly, head lolled back. "A might be wrang but you dinny seem happy." 

"Am worried Rents. Five days nae cunts seen ye. Sick Boy's the same, no left his Ma's in that time. A dunno wits gon on here but yees better sort it. Yer best pals. Yer gonnae fuckin kill yersel takin this amount ae junk." 

Renton squinted at him. "His Ma's?" 

"Aye, casa del Williamson. Even fuckin Begbie's worried aboot yees." 

"A want nout tae dae wi him, Tommy. Sorry bud." Renton rolled around a bit before hauling himself up and staggering towards the bedroom. "A appreciate ye tryin mate but am away to ma kip. Let yersel out." He waved over his shoulder and fell into bed, sleep taking him away from painful consciousness. 

\------- 

Sick Boy was embarrassed, frankly, that he'd caused such a scene and allowed Renton to know how much he'd gotten under his skin. 

He was only a wee bit jealous that Rents had pulled that bird, but just because he was used to Mark being there whenever he wanted it. He'd gotten used to their routine and as much as he hated to admit it, he enjoyed it. A blow job was a blow job and that was that. 

The move to his Ma's had been a fucking dramatic statement even for Simon Williamson, and he was tearing his hair out by the Saturday. His sisters were loud and irritating, his Ma was intense and he expected his prick Dad to burst in at any moment and boot him out. There was only room for one male in their house, and when push came to shove, that wasn't him. 

Simon decided that he should put a stop to whatever it was they had been doing. Their friendship was too important and he didn't trust himself to keep a straight head where his dick was involved. 

"Mama? I'm off!" He called up the stairs, duffel bag high on his shoulder. 

"Simon? Are you sure son?" 

"Aye, Mama! I'll phone you later!" He finished and was out the door, heading down the bridges, heart in his mouth despite his best efforts to keep calm. 

When he got to the flat it was in darkness, and there was a pile of post on the hallway floor.

"Hello?" He shouted, flicking the hall light on. There was some stumbling and then Renton appeared in the bedroom door, shaking and looking terrible. 

"Yev been oan skag?" Sick Boy asked, knowing well the look of withdrawal. 

"Nice tae meet ye, am Mark, am a junkie. Junkies inject heroin, amongst other things." He sneered sarcastically, turning on his heel and collapsing back on the mattress. The smell of sick was evident in the air and Sick Boy wrinkled his nose as he followed him into the bedroom. 

"Ha ha, a fuckin comedian." Sick Boy chucked his bag down and shrugged off his coat. "Ye hudin?" 

"Naw, am tryin tae wean masel off fur a bit. Heavy few days." He looked at his track marks, red and angry, and tugged the shoddy duvet around his shoulders. 

Neither of them said anything for a while, Sick Boy staring out the window and Renton staring at the floor boards. 

"Listen..." Sick Boy started, running a hand through his hair.

"Aw Simon dinnae man, no when am sick." Renton laid down on the bed, covering his ears with his hands. 

"Whase fault is that?! Gon please listen tae me," he begged. "Am sorry fur how a behaved the other night. It wisny okay. A got ratty and it wisny your fault. A hink it wid dae us both good to stoap aw that shit fae before an all. Folk were starting to talk." He looked at Renton, who was glaring at him. 

Renton shook his head and raised his eyebrows. "Okay." Was all he could manage. He turned around in bed and willed the disappointment in his stomach to go the fuck away, pronto. 

Sick Boy wanted to say more - like how he really liked getting with Renton, and how he wouldn't mind if Renton only did stuff with Sick Boy for the rest of his life, even if that was selfish as fuck. He wanted to say that he sometimes wanted to kiss him but was scared that crossed some kind of a line, and he wanted to say Renton was a fucking tit for letting him finish this so suddenly. 

He couldn't say any of that, so he kicked off his shoes, shucked off his jeans and slid under the duvet, wrapping an arm around Renton. 

"Shut up, before ye open yer mouth. Enjoy it cos this is a one time offer." He murmured into the back of Renton's neck. Renton just sighed in defeat and moved back, closer into the presence of his best friend, allowing his body heat to anchor him and help combat some of the pain of junk withdrawal. 

They fell asleep that way, and when Renton woke up in the morning, Sick Boy was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://belle-laid.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Renton's not one for beating about the bush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to make this chaptered, bear with me as I find my footing! 
> 
> As always, not my characters, etc etc

1991 

\-- Renton -- 

The train tae Edinburgh fae London wis ayways hellish. Seven hours ae unbridled boredom, n the anticipation wis worse. 

Ad been in London fur nearly seven month, stayin at ma mate Nicksy's, gettin masel the fuck away fae the temptations ae Edinburgh. 

Dinny get me wrong, there wis as much skag and debauchery to be found in England as there was north of the border, but wae shit to dae in London n nane ae ma draining pals to bring us down, a lived a quieter life. 

It couldny last, of course, and ad been begged tae return hame by ma Maw, insisting that ma Nana, whae wis 76, wis oan her last legs and wanted tae see us a last time. 

A booked ma train n filled ma wee case wae ma worldly possessions - 12 polo tops, 3 pairs ae Levi's, ma funeral suit, 2 pair ae Adidas trainers n 3 books - Ulysses, 1984 n the wan a was reading just now oan the train, Lolita. 

Barry book Lolita, fucked up story aboot an old gadge tryin tae get in aboot a wee lassie. Question ae the story is: monster, or man in love? A huvny made up ma ain mind yet. 

The train pulled intae Waverely it aboot 4:30, n a felt fuck all when a stepped off the train n back oan home turf. Way a saw it, a place wis just a place, couldny hawd any sentimental value and if ye allowed it to, ye were fuckin daft - aw it did wis hawd ye back, chain ye tae places that didny reciprocate any feeling, tie ye tae one place soas ye were born, lived a pishy life and rotted away in yer ain square meter ae the Earth. States wanted ye tae feel a connection tae where ye were born, so ye'd fight wars fur them n hang aboot payin thur taxes. A wisny fur playing that stupit game. 

A set off doon the walk, intae Leith, sun shining overhead but wae a biting cald, making us miss the clamminess ae London mare than a thought a wid. 

A goat tae ma ma's n let her hug us, greet aer us, complain that a wis too skinny n too far away - a wis still her wee boy, bla bla fuckin bla. 

Ma old man observed us in contempt but still gave us a quick hug, obviously allowin his emotions to overwhelm him given the faimly situ. Daft cunt. 

We jumped in the motor n they drove us up tae see ma Nana, intae the hospice where she wis to live oot her dying days. Cancer it wis, in the bones. Naebdy had kent fur ages. It wis a sad state ae affairs. 

A felt a bit choked up, seein her lyin in the bed, shrivelled up under the covers like a rotten shrimp, until she reached a hand oot n croaked "Billy, ma favourite Grandson, how're ye keepin?" A glared at ma maw, who shook her heed at me in apology. 

"That's Mark, Mum, wee Mark." She said intae her maw's ear, strokin back the cotton wool hair stuck tae her wee heed. It didny look like she remembered me or if she did, she didny gie a fuck but she spoke tae me anyway, askin how the uni was gawn after a shit ton ae prompting by ma Ma. A humoured her even tho ad no been tae Aiberdeen fur nearing 5 years now, foaming shite aboot ma classes n ma halls. 

Finally we got away fae the old bird n a asked ma Da to drop us off down the Cenny, tae see the boys. They were eywis down there oan a Friday night, n although they could be a bunch ae fuckin nightmares, a missed thum. 

"Fuck sake Mark kin ye no stay in wae us? Wev no seen ye for months!" He shouted, eyeballing us in the rearview mirror. 

A didny reply, which encouraged him to start rabbiting oan fur ages aboot how ungrateful a wis, how much a was upsetting ma maw, how Billy wid never dae such a thing. 

A tuned him oot eventually n thought aboot seein ma pals again - seein fuckin Simon again. 

We'd phoned each other wance a week when a first went doon tae the Big Smoke, catchin each other up on our lives but had eventually stopped phoning. A dinny ken who stopped callin first, mibby it was mutual, mibby it was him. We'd no been right since aw that stuff a few years back, when we'd been foolin aroond behind everywans backs like a pair ae fuckin teenagers. 

How we didny get caught or contract some grisly STI av nae clue. Sick Boy's just a lucky cunt, so a suppose some ae it must've rubbed aff on me fur a few months. 

Ad half left because ae aw that. A found it hard, truth be told, tae look at um n no remember wit we'd done. A hadny wanted to stop it, buftie or nae buftie. A knew a didny like boys, was the thing, a just liked him. A didny ken anyone who didny fancy Simon Williamson. 

Anyway, it had stopped, but its no like a protested. A wasny embarrassing masel for the sake ae him. It just meant when a wis drunk n horny or comin oaf gear and needy a spent too much ae ma time trying no to think aboot him. It wis draining, and a thought a change ae scenery wid be good for us. 

Ma Da dropped us at the pub, despite his mundane fuckin moanin. A squeezed ma Ma oan her shoodir n bounced out the car, steelin masel as a pushed open the boozer doors and looked around fur ma mates. 

They wereny there. A stoated to the bar n ordered a pint ae heavy, askin Tracy, the bar maid, if she'd seen thum. 

"No the day av no, Renton." She said as she poured and sat ma pint in front ae me. "Where've ye been?" 

"Just doon in London, Trace." A replied, slippin aff ma Fred Perry jaikit n takin a sip ae the ruby red alcoholic nectar. Couldny get a decent pint like this in London, nae matter where ye went. 

A wis watchin the fitbaw highlights when Tommy came in, spottin us at the bar n shouting "Rent Boy!" At the top ae his voice in glee. "Nae fuckin way! Ye didny tell us ye were back?!" 

"Aye mate, ma Nana's no keepin well ae. Hud tae come up tae show some faimly support," a grimaced. "Where's the lads?" 

Tommy looked it his wrist watch n at the door. "Beggers should be here any minute, n the rest ae them willny be far behind a imagine. Dinny fuckin bother askin wit they've been up tae the day cos wit ye dinny ken canny be beat oot ae ye." He shook his head n ordered a pint n a single whiskey, moving ower tae a booth and motioning fur me tae join um. 

We blethered for another couple ae moments before the doors swung in n Begbie stood in the door way, chest heaving. He spotted me n shouted in a similar fashion tae Tommy, coming ower n slapping me oan the back hard enough tae puncture ma lungs. 

True tae Tommy's word, the rest ae them barrelled in moments later: Spud, Second Prize, Matty, Gav, Sick Boy, Alison n some lassie a didny ken. They aw fussed ower me for a bit, sharing condolences when a telt them aboot ma Nana. Sick Boy offered to order us a pint n it felt like ad never been away, slipping intae our old rhythms ae winding each other up n arguing ower stupit wee things. 

A watched him walk tae the bar n when he got there, wrapping his airm aroond the new bird's shoodir, kissing her oan the temple. Aw. 

"Fucks that?" A nodded to where they wir standing. 

"That's Mandy, Rents." Spud offered. "Lovely wee cat likesy, too nice fur Simon, too nice fur any ae us." He dropped his voice, no wantin to get caught gossiping. A sat down n willed masel no to get annoyed. A was about ready to say something to provoke Begbie intae smashing ma face in because a was annoyin masel that much wae this nonsense but lost ma train ae thought when Sick Boy n Mandy sat doon, opposite us, knees touchin n passing wee glances. She was bonnie enough, long black hair n broon eyes, fat lips n wae huge tits, but a still thought she wis a cow. Sharry Mandy, c'est la fuckin vie. 

"Tell us aboot London then ya posh cunt." Begbie demanded n a telt them a hud been workin in a bank, a cashier, n hud been shaggin a wee posho called Lynsay. A wis lyin through ma fuckin teeth but these cunts never needed to ken that. They believed fuckin anythin that came oot ma mouth, honestly. 

It wasny long before a felt pretty pished. The combination ae ale, whiskey n the odd dab of speed had me feelin pretty electric, like a could get masel intae trouble the night n no really care aboot it. 

The rest ae them looked the same, Begbie eyeing up some punters in the corner who looked like they could withstand a good leathering, Spud oan top form recounting stories ae when we were kids. 

He was jist startin the wan aboot us aw camping out in the links when Sick Boy got up n went to the bogs, finally leaving fuckin Mandy's side. 

A followed him a moment later. A couldny think of a decent reason why a shouldny. 

He wis splashin water oan his face when a got in. "Some bird yev got." A looked at him in the mirror, his face flashing in apprehension before his cocky mask slipped back. He turned around, leaning back oan the sink. 

"Yer no fuckin wrong. Bangs like a fuckin rabbit, although truth be telt she's gettin a bit clingy. Keeps introducin me tae folk as her 'man.'" He shuddered. 

A hated this part ae him. Well, a hated it and a didny - it wis vile, but it made him him. He wisny nicknamed Sensitive Boy, or Sound Boy, fur a very good reason. 

"Paer Mandy. Due the boot soon then a take it?" 

"Al see how a feel." He seemed pissed aff. "Ye stopped phoning me." He said, arms crossed, ankles crossed, fuckin eyebrows nearly crossed. 

"Sorry Ma, ye ken how it gets. Fuckin - "

"Did ye fuck huv a job in a bank. Or a girlfriend cawed Lindsay." 

"A canny mind becoming pals wae Sherlock Holmes," a retorted, no arsed wi him in this fuckin crabby mood. 

"Fuck you ya smart prick." 

"Better get back out, Si, dinny want the boys talking. Dinny want Mandy finding oot ye like gettin yer coak sucked by men." 

Sick Boy examined us evenly. "Whae wid ever believe a thing like that?" He said as he pushed past me n back intae the bar. A took a deep breath, done a quick pish n followed him, feelin like a prick fur bringing that up but no as bad as a felt aboot how much a wanted him, right now.

We'd no been the gither, no like that, fur so long, n a was fed up ae waiting aboot. A wis fed up seein him wae other cunts when he openly hated me dain the same. 

We drank fur a couple hours longer before Sick Boy begged off with Mandy, winkin as he left, a hand steering her towards the door. Ma blood fizzed. A got away no long after, skulking back to ma parents place alone n pissed aff wae the world. 

A hud fully planned on stayin it ma Ma's all night, honestly, but ad been in ma old bed fir an hour mibby n decided a couldny hack it. Ma ears were ringin wae the drink n ma body wis aching fur touch n a decided there wis nae time like the present. 

A pulled oan ma jeans n shoes n slipped out the door, jogging to the old flat on Monty street, puttin ma finger on the buzzer fur flat 4 n just hawdin it doon. 

"Who the fuck is this?!" Sick Boy hissed ower the intercom, n a braced masel against the door. 

"It's Rents. Kin a come up?" A tried, fully aware there wis nae chance in hell. He didny reply so a stuck ma finger oan the buzzer again, n his voice came through, tinny as fuck, 

"Awright! Am comin down, wait fuckin there." 

A moment later he was there, pullin open the front door n squinting it me in the dull light. "It's four in the morning ya absolute fanny ae the highest order. Wit the fuck dae you want?!" 

"Is Mandy up stair?" A looked up at him (stupid tall bastard wid obviously be bigger than me in aw areas), tryin ma best to dae seductive eyes.

He just looked back it me, stony faced. "Wit huv you taken, yer eyes ur swingin aboot lit Spud's fuckin jaw." He said, n a punched him lightly in the shoulder, deciding the horny eyes had never worked and probably never wid. "Aye, Mandy's upstair. This isny appropriate, Rents. A thought we were ower this. Yer like a psycho ex bird." He said n a actually felt ma bottom lip slippin out like a spoilt wee bairn. A was feelin brave but n decided to let one hand rest on his chest, the way lassies wid dae to me tae make us feel mare connected tae thum. 

He looked doon at ma hand n back it ma face, one eyebrow cocked. "Av been roond the block a few times mate n that stoaped workin on us when a wis 13." 

A dropped ma hand n sighed loudly. "Geez a fuckin break, Si. Just let us touch ye, one time man, just fur old times sake. It's like a hit ae heroin, it's no forever, ye just need it when ye need it." A heard masel reasoning, knowing a was talking shite, wondering if he'd buy it anyway. 

He looked at me fur wit seemed like forever then went "Mandy's upstair. She'd hear us if we went up." A just dropped to ma knees right there in response, even tho it wis dark as fuck, mockit n freezing fuckin cold. A rubbed ma hands the gither to warm thum up, looking straight up into Sick Boy's eyes, n rubbed ma forehead against his crotch. 

Like fuckin magic he started to fill his pants, the shorts he wis wearing tenting ever so slightly as a ran ma closed lips across the length. 

"You're nuhin but fuckin hassle," he groaned, leanin back against the wall n coverin his face wae his hands. A tugged at his shorts, then his pants n nearly wet masel wae excitement when his dick flopped into ma face, keening toward ma mouth like a plant seeking sunlight. 

A put ma lips round him, took a deep breath n swallowed him all the way, his pubes tickling ma nose. A was about to repeat this when he pulled me aff by ma hair, turning ma face up to his. 

"Huv you been suckin someones coak in London?!" He requested angrily, n a shook ma head no, even tho a definitely had been, whenever a got the chance, determined tae get good at it just incase. 

He obviously didny believe me but pushed me back down anyway. "If you're such an expert then ye willny mind if a move," he reasoned, slowly pumping his hips down ma throat, makin ma eyes water but makin me feel so good. 

"A canny fuckin think straight around you," he was babbling, goin slow then fast, deep and short, usin me like a fuckin junk needle. "You make me lose ma fuckin mind. Bird upstair in ma bed n here a um, needin to gie you attention cos yer a whiny, desperate baby who canny keep away fae his pals cock." 

A groaned around him, couldny help it, even if a wanted to. A felt like a was someone else, watchin the pair ae us fae above, n feelin really fuckin turned oan by it. 

"Sometimes a think you need to be fucked properly, Mark," he grunted, "Really fuckin shown who's boss, ya spoilt wee smart arse." 

He started scratching ma hair, mumbling "Am gonnae come, gonnae fuckin come aw aer you, jesus fuck," n a cupped his baws, stretching a finger back to stroke his perennial, satisfied when he started coming down ma throat, then pulling out quickly n jacking the remaining shite aw aer ma face. 

He was breathless fur a few minutes, legs shaking, n a wiped his semen aff ma coupon wae the bottom ae his shorts, tugging them back around his waist - it was cold, n a didny want his prick fawin aff if a was tae get any use fae it. 

"You get aggressive when yer turned on," a stated simply, n he swatted ma head in mock anger. 

"You wind me up ya wee prick." He replied, lookin down at me, still on ma knees. He held out a hand to help me up n a took it, standing face tae face wae um. Well, adams apple tae face. 

"Wit dae yer birds get after they've made ye come lit that?" A asked, half laughing. 

Sick Boy narrowed his eyes at me, then began walking us into the wall behind me. It felt like he wis everywhere, suffocating us, but in a good wey. 

"Wit wid a dae... wit wid a dae... well ad definitely start by kissin her, just to taste ma ain spunk oan her tongue," he ran his thumb over ma lips, "Then ad definitely play wi her nipples, a fuckin love that," he pit is hand up ma top n pinched ma awready hard nipples, makin ma knees shake, "then ad probably eat her oot fur a bit," he put his hand down ma trousers n applied pressure to ma aching cock, makin us gasp, "n ad maybe finger her a bit, get her ready," he slipped his hand round the back ae me and squeezed ma arse, making ma cock twitch like fuck, a moan ripping out of ma throat, "n then ad fuck her, seven ways tae Tuesday, oan every surface a could get, no stop till she couldny tell ye if a was speakin Italian or English, fill her up wae ma spunk so every cunt knew she wis mine. Then ad hold her till she remembered where she wis." He licked the shell ae ma ear, makin me want tae cry wae need. 

"Please." Was aw a could fuckin muster. 3 A levels at the college, 12 O levels n half a fuckin degree n aw a could say to the cunt wis please. A would've went bright red but a awready wis, tryin tae hump his fuckin thighs like the needy wee cunt a currently wis. 

He seemed to consider his options fur a moment, then he telt me to turn around n put ma hands on the waw. 

If he'd huv telt me to go intae the Western General n unplug a bairns life machine, a honestly wid huv in that moment. 

A waited, cheek against the cold bricks, keening when he pulled ma jeans n boxers doon. He waited fur a minute, then kissed baith ma erse cheeks, spreading them open. A was half mortified half elated, pushing back blindly, no carin what happened next as long as somethin did. A felt his breath over ma fuckin arse hole when the sound ae keys jangling outside broke us apart, me scrambling to get ma troosirs up, Sick Boy leaping away n tearing up the stairs, no even looking back at us. 

The door opened n a boy n his bird were there, starin at iz, me lookin fuckin crazy standin in the stair well wae an obvious erection fightin to make itsel centre ae attention. 

"What the fuck are you doing?!" The guy challenged, ready to knock me the fuck out incase a was some sort ae pervert. And a suppose a was, just then, but fuck if a cared. 

"Sorry mate, am just leaving," a mumbled, tryin to get past him without um seein ma face. 

"Al call the fucking police you fucking creep!" He shouted after me, as a hit a B1 down the street and doon tae ma folk's. 

A got back intae ma bed, the sun coming up ootside, n tried to gather ma thoughts. Reaching inty ma pocket a dabbed a bit ae speed, rubbed it around ma gums and proceeded to have the best wank ae ma life - of course, nout to do wae Simon Williamson. 

\----- 

A wis in ma room, readin Lolita and mindin ma ain business the next day when the phone went. 

"Mark? It's Francis!" Ma maw shouted upstair, n a dragged masel oot ae bed, no arsed wae listenin to that cunt brag aboot who he leathered last night. 

A picked up the phone. "Franco?" 

"Renton. Kin ye come roond tae ma flat, please? A need a word." 

A immediately started panicking - this wis, after aw, Francis fuckin Begbie. "Eh, aye, a kin be there in 10. Is everythin awright?" 

"Jist fuckin get here." He hung up. 

Wit had a done now? Mibby it wis that he required ma wiry climbing skills fur wan ae his house breaks, a reasoned, no lettin anxiety take me fur a fuckin ride. Aye, thats aw it wis. A knew better than to dae stuff a kent wid piss Begbie aff. A grabbed ma jaikit n headed oot, lightin a quick joint. 

A arrived it Begbie's hovel ae a flat n knocked the door, takin a deep breath. Spud answered it. He looked feart. 

"Awrite catboy?" He asked, closin the door behind us. 

"Wits gon oan spud?" A asked, n he shook his head that he wisny gonny talk, leadin me intae the front room - where Second Prize, Tommy, Begbie n Sick Boy sat, nae wan wantin to make eye contact wae us bar Begbie who wis eyein me lit a wis a fuckin mosquito. 

"Take a seat." He said n a sat oan the edge ae the couch, lookin tae Sick Boy who was aggressively starin oot the windae. 

"What's happenin?" A asked n Begbie stood up, pacin slowly. 

"Wits happenin, Rent Boy, is that June's brar saw ye last night. Dae ye wanty explain tae us exactly wit ye were dain?" 

Ma mouth went dry n a looked at the rest ae them, still no lookin it me. 

"Naw? Awrite, a will then. He said ye were at it. Wae a man." He hissed, standin in front ae me. 

How the fuck hud the boy seen me and Sick Boy and only recognised me?! He wis the cunt who fuckin lived there, the cunt wae the bleach blonde hair! 

"Wit the fuck?" A said, deciding tae play dumb. 

"Now listen Renton, am a reasonable gadge. Wid yees no agree?" He asked the room n they aw nodded, starin it their fuckin shoes, the bunch ae pussies. "But am no huvin some cunt in ma personal circle gettin up tae aw that shite, in public no less, n riskin the rest ae us gettin infected wae witever. " 

"Fuck sake Frank," a stood up, "Are ye fuckin serious?! Half ae us ur junkies! We've as much chance ae gettin HIV fae that than any-" 

"Don't fucking talk back tae me!" Begbie bellowed, grabbin us by the throat. Sick Boy stood up then, shitin cunt, n tried tae reason wae the fuckin psycho. 

"Woa Franco, woa," he said, backin aff when Begbie turned his blazing eyes oan Sick Boy. 

"Am only gaunny tell ye wance - that wis the last time ye dae that shit aroond here. Huv ye goat that?" He stage whispered. A nodded, ma eyes bulging, n hit the deck when he let me go, drawing in ragged breaths through ma destroyed pipes. 

A moment or two later a stood up n straightened ma coat, lookin ower at Sick Boy who wis starin at us, tryin tae silently scream "Dinny tell thum it wis me." A shook ma head at um n left, tearin doon the stairs n throwin up aw aer the pavement when a got outside. 

A realised ma feet were takin me tae Swanney's a bit later, but when a got there a couldny face skag so a asked fur some diazepam or somethin that wid knock me the fuck oot. He produced the goods n a gave um ma poppy, jumpin oan the bus back tae ma Ma's n swallowin thum the second a got ower the threshold, collapsin in ma bed n only having about twenty minute ae tryin no tae greet before a stopped being conscious. 

\------ 

When a woke up Sick Boy wis oan the end ae ma bed, face scrunched up at ma copy ae Lolita. 

"The fuck ur you dain here?" A asked, sittin up, ma heed bangin. "You sure ye wanty be this close tae a buftie?" 

He got a bit ae a fright when a spoke n slammed the book doon, sadness in his eyes, to his fuckin credit. "Am so fuckin sorry, Rents. Am so so sorry. A didny ken wit tae dae. He called us roond n telt us n a telt him ye'd ayways hud a thing fur the boy across the landing, when ye lived wae us like. A panicked. He'll be awrite wae ye, honestly, a think he wis just shock-" 

"Nice wan Simon, fuckin barry ae ye. Get the fuck oot ae ma room," a spat, tryin no tae look at the cunt. Sittin oan ma bed in his fancy fuckin gear expectin me tae pat him oan the back, clear his conscience - no fuckin chance. 

"You wid huv done the same, fuck sake, dinny be angry at us." 

A ignored um, arms crossed, starin it ma stupit fuckin wall paper. 

A coupla moments passed. 

"A can... if ye want..." he put his hand on ma thigh over ma duvet n ma eyes nearly popped out ma heed. 

"Are you no fuckin right in the napper?!" A started laughing, sounding fuckin nuts, "Are you for fucking REAL?" 

He held up his hands, palms turned up n went "Sorry, thought it wis what ye were intae." 

A slapped him across the fuckin jaw, surprising even masel, wantin to knock fuck out the smug cunt. What a was intae?! As if this wis aw ma doing!

"You're intae it an all you absolute fucking dobber. Yer a fuckin twat Simon, a TWAT." 

"Am away ya nutter," he murmured an flung ma door open aggressively. A spent the next five minutes screaming intae ma fuckin pilly. 

Never again, a telt masel. It wisny worth it. Sick Boy wisny worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're no as cruel as you make out, Si." He said against ma tshirt, head rolling back slowly tae look me in the eyes. 
> 
> "Tell anyone an yer fuckin dead."

1992 

\-- Sick Boy -- 

Al never ken how we pulled it off in the end, but a was suddenly 4 grand up and a felt fuckin electric. 

A say al never ken how we pulled it aff but if truth be telt, it wis aw ma idea, ma connections, ma insight. Begbie's muscle helped, aye, an a suppose Renton's 2k investment. Spud wis useless and a dunno why he wis invited but a wisny complainin. We'd fucking done it. 

Sittin in that pub wae the three ae them after, a felt like a wis ready tae jump ootay ma skin. A wanted to get fucked up tae celebrate, didny care if it wis coke, speed, ket, Es, fuckin heroin, a didny care, just wanted to let out the energy buzzin in ma system. 

A looked ower at Rents, an wondered wit he'd say if a came onty him. He'd probably get aw indignant an angry, fuckin typical Mark, but that made me want him more. It wid be the perfect high - anythin a wisny supposed to do wis exactly what a wanted. 

A got up to go tae the toilet, decidin ad take a line n when a got back start graftin the wee ginger prick. 

"Right. Am off fur a pish. See when a get back, the money's still here, ok?" A was only half jokin, clappin ma hand on Renton's shoulder, squeezin hard. Easy does it, Shimon. 

"The moment yer back's turned we're oot the door." 

"Yeah? Al be right fuckin after ye." 

A stood in front ae the grotty mirror an flicked ma hands through ma hair, lining up a bit ae gear wae ma bank card an almost purring as a felt it hit the back ae ma throat, ma brain, ma blood. 

A walked back tae the table. 

"Still here a see?" 

"Aye, widny run out on a mate." 

"Why not?" A said, hoping a sounded flirty, aware a sounded like a cunt. "A know a would." We stared at each other fur a moment before Begbie's voice carried across the pub. 

The psycho wis startin on some poor fat English cunt, who hud got in Begbie's road. It appears 4k wisny enough to see the cunt put his psycho side away fur one evening; or mibby he wis buzzin an all, lookin fur an outlet. Either way, the boy wis gettin it, an when Begbie's glass connected wae his red puss a felt ma plans go east right oot the windae intae the fuckin thames. Frank Begbie, ladies an gentlemen, boner killer extraordinaire. 

A let um boot the cunt a couple ae times before a got up, panickin a wee bit when Spud's hand got slashed lit a fuckin block ae butter. 

"OH, fuckin nice one Franco!" 

"Shut it. You were in ma fuckin way." 

Hours seemed tae pass as Frank looked around fur anyone stupit enough tae make eye contact. 

"Rent Boy. You bring me a fuckin smoke." 

Renton got up, slowly, gettin half way to the bar an bein sent back fur the dosh. He lit Begbie's fag an passed it tae um, unable tae hide his contempt. That wis aywis Renton's problem. Cunt hud facial Tourettes. 

A looked it Renton, a silent conversation passin between us. We hud tae get Spud's hand seen tae, but we couldny split up. Nae one could be trusted wae the money; no even me, no even Rents.

Slowly we made our way oot the boozer, Franco checkin wan mare time fur any punters wantin a shot. 

We got ootside n bolted fae the bar, Spud whimperin the whole way, hudin his hand lit a wounded dug. 

"Geez yer tie Franco," a asked, no sure wit the cunt wid say. Tae ma surprise he pulled it aff one handed an a wrapped it around Spud's wound, passin um tae Renton whae kent how tae tie it properly an aw that, him bein clever. 

The mood wis gone. We went tae an offy down fae the hotel n picked up a couple boatils ae voddy, some fags n a selection ae sandwiches, decidin to go back tae the hotel an drink in there, away fae anycunt who could wind Begbie up any further. 

A pulled out a bottle ae buckfast fae ma holdall back in the room, takin one ae they glass cups oot the bathroom n pourin masel a measure. 

"Who drinks bucky oot a fuckin glass?" Renton chided, swiggin his voddy straight out the bottle. 

"Men, Rent Boy. Men who arney uncultured swines like your good self." A was grinnin fur the first time since the bar, toeing aff ma shoes n shruggin aff ma jaikit. 

Renton scoffed, "Men? Geez a shout when ye see wan," rufflin ma hair tae fuck it up. A pressed intae his hand, turnin ma eyes up tae him. He pulled it back lit he'd been burnt, eyes hittin the flair an a thought, game fuckin oan. 

Renton wis like a habit. Like any habit, it wis hard to control. When we'd started fuckin about a could feel masel spiralling, gettin hooked on him. A was an addict, after all. We baith were. 

A stopped it the first time, worried at wit a wis becoming. A didny let anyone get the better ae me, no like that. A didny like feeling out of control, so a put the breaks on. Renton didny protest. 

When he went tae London a wis relieved as fuck. Ad been gittin itchy again, convincing masel a quick gam widny hurt. He left an a got wae Mandy, who wis awrite, but borin as fuck an too clingy. A considered pimping her but couldny be arsed wae the hassle ae gettin her hooked, trainin her properly, ye ken the drill. 

A nearly lost ma mind when he came tae ma flat that night, needy an fuckin desperate, mirrorin how a felt. A wanted to get ma hands all ower him, make him mine, but some cunt burst in and how a didny get caught will remain a mystery to the day a die. Am just fuckin lucky. 

A felt terrible when Begbie went fur Mark. It wisny his fault man, an I did fuck all tae take the heat aff him. A pussied oot. A wis lucky he ever spoke tae us again, but that wis Renton. Too fuckin forgiving. 

A knew a should leave um the fuck alone the night, especially with Begbie an Spud right fuckin there. But a couldny. Like a said, nae control. 

Begbie wis swiggin fae a can ae Export oan the bed, flickin through the TV, settlin oan some saturday night pish. 

Spud wis oan his belly oan the floor watchin wae his heed in his good hand, smilin away. He couldny hate anyone fur long, doss cunt. Probably convinced umsel he wis in Begbie's way, deserved it. Mibby he did. 

Renton wis leanin oan the windae ledge, watchin me. A licked ma lips an stared back, puttin oan the full Simon Williamson works. A wis havin him tonight. Ad earned it. 

"Wit ye gonnae dae wae the money Rent Boy?" A asked. 

He opened his mouth to reply but Begbie cut in. 

"Am watchin this fuckin telly, ya ignorant cunts." His eyes never left the TV. 

A looked back at Renton. His eyes were glittering. Ma heart thrummed in anticipation. 

\-- Have you got the end goal in shight Shimon?   
\-- A shertainly have, Sean. 

\----

We hud tae endure Begbie's company fur 4 mare hours before the cunt fell asleep, arms wrapped aroond the black holdall wae the money. Spud hud conked oot already, probably exhausted fae the energy he'd spent whin Beggers slashed um. 

Renton wis sat next tae Begbie in the bed an a was oan the floor next tae um, back against the wall. 

"Holiday. A wanty get out ae the UK." He whispered, an it took me a moment before a realised he wis answerin ma earlier question. 

"Where ye gaunny go?" A asked, careful no tae wake up the sleepin fuckin psycho. 

"Dunno. Europe. It wis barry when a went interrailing, couple ae years back, mind?"

A minded. A felt left behind when the cunt swanned aff wae his uni wank pals, stoatin intae the sunset, leavin aw his schemie mates behind. Ad never tell um that but. As far as he wis concerned, a couldny gee less ae a fuck. 

"Vaguely. A hink am gonny buy a smart suit, mibby a nice coat. Or a car, actually, that might be handy." 

"Ye live in Edinburgh ya fanny." 

"Disny hurt tae huv a wee motor ootside the gaff, Rents. Let the burds ken yer a man ae many means." 

We baith kent we'd spend the money oan drink an skag. Still, it wis nice tae pretend. 

"Rents?" 

"Aye?" 

"Am sorry aboot aw that stuff, a while back. Wae Begbie." A started but Renton just shook his head. 

"A get it, Si. Ye dinny have tae explain." He whispered back. 

A looked at him, an fuckin prayed wit a was thinkin wid come across. A hated huvin tae ask, tae beg. 

"We canny." He looked at me like a wis mad. 

"In the bathroom." A tried, voice fuckin tiny. 

He came off the bed an sat beside me, an it was like a could feel him all along ma body, his heat giein me goosebumps. 

We jist looked at each other. We were tipsy, aye, but ma mind wis clear. A wanted him. Ad always wanted him. 

A stretched out a hand n put it oan the side ae his face, swiping ma thumb gently ower his cheek. He closed his eyes, ginger lashes fanned oot ower his skin. 

Before a could talk masel out ae it a kissed him. 

His lips were dry an thin, but a made the best ae wit a hud. He didny move for a couple ae seconds, but then he wis openin his mouth tae me, tongue hungrily swiping against mine, his hands huddin the front ae ma tshirt. A could feel he wis shaking. 

\-- Mission accomplished, Shimon?   
\-- About to be, Sean. 

A tugged him up an we fell intae the bathroom, lookin it the tiny space, wonderin how the fuck we wid fit. He motioned it the shower but a shook ma heed naw. Shower sex wis horrendous; only wan ae ye could be under the water it any time n otherwise ye were fuckin frozen. We needed tae be quick and silent here, so a unbuckled ma belt, pulled down ma breichs an sat oan the closed toilet seat, lookin it Renton as if to say, kin ye manage? 

He narrowed his eyes in silent determination an fumbled around in Spud's wash bag (your guess is a good as mine as tae why that scruffy cunt bothered wae a wash bag), producin a tub ae vaseline.

"Who decided you wir the wan givin?" Renton asked. He wis as hard as a wis, which wis lucky cos a didny need um tae roast me ower how keen a wis. 

A snorted. "Am bigger, mare dominant, mare experienced. You're a wee flimsy thing, ye'd never be able tae satisfy us." A was smilin as a said it an Renton rolled his eyes at us, nae doubt thinkin ae a hunner smart responses, kenning better than tae piss me aff seeing as a wis about tae shag his arse.

"A suppose," he held up the vaseline, "We need tae dae somethin tae us tae get us ready?" 

"Yer askin as if av fuckin done this afore!" A said indignantly. 

"Away ye go," he replied. "Dinny act like ye dinny ken, Mr Sexual fuckin Prowess." 

A laughed an pulled him intae me, neckin fur a couple ae moments before a stood back up, motionin um tae lean ower the sink. 

A took the vaseline oot ae his hands an rubbed some ower ma index and forefinger, runnin ma hands over his arse. He wis starin at me in the mirror, an his pupils flooded wae darkness when a started pressin a finger in um, takin ma time, surprised how similar it wis tae lassie's erses. 

"Fuckin hurry up, Si," he hissed, an a didny ken if he wis impatient cos he wis horny or feart Begbie wid get up fur a pish an walk on his two best pals with their fingers up each other. "Wit ye lookin fur?" He groaned as a felt aboot, digging blindly. A knew it wis here somewhere, ad read about it an Alison had touched mine wance - 

Renton yelped loudly as ma fingers found his prostate, humping his hips intae the ceramic bowl ae the sink, eyes lighting up wae fear at the noise he hud made. 

We baith froze, ma fingers still in him, Renton wae his hands gripping the sink white knuckled. There wisny any noise next door, so a slipped ma other finger in, rubbing them baith ower his spot. He wis half pushin back half pullin forward, tormented wae how good he felt and how difficult it wis for um tae stay quiet. His eyes were oan ma face, wild, mouth open an drawin in air with nae rhythm. 

Av never been good at shuttin ma mouth when am huvin sex, and even tho he hated it, Renton wis nae exception. 

"You're fuckin gorgeous, Mark," a breathed, "Properly fuckin made fur cock man. It's no fair ye'v been keepin this tae yersel for so long. Ye were made to fuckin ride cock." 

A wis standin there in nout but ma tshirt an socks, dick goin fuckin purple an curving toward ma belly button, greetin fur attention. A put a hand oan it an moaned quietly at the feel ae the pressure, unsure how long a wid last when we got started.

Renton's eyes tracked ma every move n he croaked oot "Am ready, Si, kin we dae it now, a want it now." His words were runnin the gither intae a mess an he wasny really whispering any mare but at this point a wis that gantin oan it a widny huv cared if Spud an Begbie came in right now an started filmin us fur the world tae see. A took ma fingers oot ay um an he whined, fuckin whined, at the emptiness, standin up an tryin tae shove me ontae the toilet seat, scooping vaseline oot ae the tub an smearing it aer ma cock, tshirt, the hair oan ma stomach, shakin lit a fuckin junkie. 

"Mark," a put baith hands oan his face, makin um look at me, tryin tae anchor him. "Be patient." A kissed um an he settled for a second but before long wis pushin me down again. A went willingly this time, seeing nae reason why a should withhold ma services. It wisny like we hud time, but if we hud, a widve taken complete pleasure in makin the needy wee bitch wait fur hours. 

A held ma cock at the base an Renton put a hand on ma shoodirs n lowered himself, slowly. It wis tricky fir the first few seconds an then he slid all the way down, eyes clenched shut, fingers digging intae me. 

A almost couldny breathe wae the sensation. He wis like fuckin heaven, schemie fuckin heaven. 

"You're so fuckin tight," a murmured intae his neck. "Tighter than any lassie out there, hotter tae. Look how fuckin hard ye'v got me Rents, this is aw you." 

He whined at that n aw, to ma surprise no tellin me to shut ma fuckin mouth. He wis that lost tae sensation a could tell um he wis a pretty fuckin princess an he'd probably glow wae pride. 

He nodded an let me ken it wis okay tae start movin, liftin himsel up slightly then back doon, an a met him wae ma own thrusts, aware ae the creek ae the plastic seat, the sound ae our heavy breaths, the buzz ae the fluorescent light above us. 

It wisny long before a wis fuckin tormented wi the cunts painfully slow rhythm. A put ma airms aroond his skinny wee frame an started lifting him as a thrust intae um, finding his prostate an drilling it like ma fuckin life depended oan it. 

"Play wi yersel Marky, go on, ye deserve it." A told um, no sure if it wis Italian a wis speakin or fuckin Swahili but it must've been English because he bit ma shoodir, whimpering an gasping, an slid a hand doon between us, tuggin himsel aff in time wae ma thrusts. He came aw aer us baith, whispering ma name in ma ear - no Sick Boy or Si but Simon, which is wit he called me when he wanted me tae ken he was angry at me, serious, or a suppose now, grateful ad made him come seven ways tae tuesday. 

A spunked intae um a few minutes later, feelin it slipping oot doon ma cock an smearing intae his skin, makin a fuckin mess ae us but most importantly markin um as mine, even if only fur the moment. 

A pulled out carefully an he sat oan ma lap, head against ma chest, as we tried tae breathe normally the gither. A got there faster than him, he wis still gaspin an shudderin, so a picked up his hand an put his fingers against the heartbeat in ma neck, hoping it wid normalise his ain. It appeared to dae the trick, an he came back tae Earth slowly. 

"You're no as cruel as you make out, Si." He said against ma tshirt, head rolling back slowly tae look me in the eyes. 

"Tell anyone an yer fuckin dead." A said, then a helped um up, grabbing a roll ae toilet roll and wiping masel up soas a could put ma clobber back oan. A chucked the roll to him an let um clean himsel, wincin as he swiped it around his arse hole. We could ae both done wae a shower but we'd already pushed it too far an were keen tae get tae bed, like kids who hud got away wi smokin thur first fag oot their bedroom windae. 

The tiles ae the bathroom were harder to clean as they were white, but we agreed that if Begbie seen any spunk in the mornin we'd blame it oan Spud huvin a sly yin durin the night. 

We slipped back intae the room, feelin a wee bit seedy cos Spud's heed wis right next tae the fuckin door man. A grabbed a a sheet oot the cupboard an Renton chucked me a pillay aff the bed an a settled down oan the floor, next tae Spud, endorphins still singing efter a sensational fuck. 

A fell intae an easy sleep, dreaming aboot nout, just conked out an peaceful. 

A wis woken up by Begbie screaming thit Renton, an the money, wir gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My timeline is all over the place - I've been writing these as I read Skagboys, then Trainspotting (despite the last chapter being alined with the movie in content and book in date) and now Porno. Couldn't decide whether to follow what had happened in T2 or in the book for the next few but went with the book in the end. 
> 
> Thanks for bearing with me!

2016

Simon hit him, square in the face, because he'd be fucked if the smug cunt was going to patronise him like that. It felt good, when his hand connected, and he rolled off Renton after it, his knuckles smarting a bit. 

"Jesus fucking christ, Simon!" Renton shouted through his nose, blood streaming onto his white t-shirt. 

"You fuckin deserve it!" Simon bellowed back, leaning on the desk for support. "Anti violence or no anti violence, you fuckin deserved that." 

Mark groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking the bundle of tissues Simon was holding out from the box on the desk. 

"Cheers ya cunt." He grunted and got to his feet slowly. They eyeballed each other for a moment before both deciding the moment of violence was over, equally deflating a wee bit. "How the fuck did ye find us?"

Simon had heard, through his DJ mate, that Mark was in Amsterdam doing well, the owner of this club. He had considered telling Begbie - who was just out of Saughton - where Mark was first, but decided against it. He wasn't helping that psycho cunt, even if meant mutual satisfaction. 

He'd jumped on a flight - EasyJet, £67 - and found himself here, before his oldest friend. He was filled equally with rage and sadness and confusion. 

Mark looked good; he had filled out a bit and had longer hair now, wrinkles around his eyes and smart clothes, a smart watch. He had landed on his feet because he was Mark Renton and he was clever and that's just what he always did. 

Simon had been pushed out of his life in London, scams and ideas failing to take off and bad relationships taking their toll. He had fathered a wee boy, who was alright, but provided little happiness or fulfilment in his life. 

He had moved back to Leith to take over his auntie's pub and was using it to help some mates produce and create a porno. It was hardly what he'd dreamed of growing up, but Simon knew the world had something in store for him. He was waiting patiently for Lady Luck to show herself, but until then: Seven Fucks for Seven Brothers. 

He told Mark he'd known where he was the whole time, that he could've had him at any moment had he so decided. Mark didn't believe him but humoured him anyway. 

Mark was completely unsurprised that Sick Boy - or Simon now - had grown into his age flawlessly. He was a bit heavier, aye, but wore it well. He was the kind of man who would never not be attractive. 

Mark flushed as he remembered the last they saw each other, glad of the blood covering his face to preserve some dignity. 

"I'll square ye up, Si. A meant to, a just never got round to it." 

"Five grand ye owe us. That's the interest and psychological damage included." Simon huffed, folding his arms. "Why'd ye leave, Mark?" His voice wasn't as confident now, his big lamp like eyes boring into Mark's. 

Neither of them needed Simon to clarify what he was really asking. 

Mark closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. 

"Dae ye wanty go for a pint?" He asked in answer, hoping he wouldn't have to talk about that right now. Simon paused a moment then said aye, dabbing at Mark's face with another wad of tissue like a concerned granny. They got him looking semi presentable and Mark zipped his jacket up to hide the worst of the stains, before heading out to the Grasshopper bar for a drink. 

\-----

"How long have ye been wi Katrin?" Simon, finishing off his fourth pint, asked Mark. 

"It's been 5 years. A dunno man, a was obsessed with her at the start, ken. Proper loved her. Now, a dinny feel it anymare. It's gone. She annoys me." 

Mark signalled to the waitress for two more pints. 

"Wit aboot you, tell us aboot the wee man." 

Simon sucked his teeth for a second, not sure how to tell Mark he wasn't much of a father to the wee boy. He was about to lie when it struck him - he didn't need to do that with Mark. They had grown up together and there was nothing they didn't know about each other. He decided to tell the truth.

"A see him as an albatross. Av got to spend time wi him, spend money on him, go tae school shows an the likes. His maw would be parent enough for both ae us but she wants me involved. £40 a week a give her, towards him like, an it feels like it all just goes down the laddie's fuckin gullet. A ken he feels the same about me. He's no greetin to see me and he's as put out by me as I am him. It is wit it is though, a suppose. That's wit a get for no wearing a johnny." 

The waitress approached, flashing a flirty grin at Simon. He winked back, unable to help himself. She set their sweating pints - Guinness for Mark, Pilsner for Simon - in front of them. She was about to open her mouth to talk to Simon when Mark snapped "Thanks, bye," in Dutch, willing her to fuck off. Simon smirked at Mark's jealousy, turning his attention back to him. 

"A understand ye, but it's a shame." Our bairns are all we leave behind when aw's said n done," Mark started saying, and Simon snorted in derision. 

"Cut the philosophy pish Mark, it's me. And al leave somethin behind awrite, some fuckin legacy, somethin maire than the wee boy. But a dinny need a lecture on morals from Edinburgh's own Dick Turpin." 

Mark sighed and chewed his lip. "It wisny personal Si." 

Simon glared at him. "How the fuck, Renton, kin it no huv been personal, when we hud just had fuckin sex hours before it?!" He hissed and his face contorted into a picture of rage and hurt and almost disgust. Almost. 

Mark's eyes dropped to the floor like lightening and a flush crept up his neck. Simon continued to stare for a moment. He pushed himself up aggressively, forcing his way into the toilet, screaming in frustration in the privacy of a cubicle. 

Mark had never had anything against gay people. He had always considered the possibilities of being with a man, and had given plenty of blow jobs and hand jobs when he was in London and no one knew him and things were a bit more liberal. It was always the reaction of his pals, and his fear of what Simon was capable of that caused him to behave differently back when they were younger. 

He couldn't handle the way he was feeling that night both before and after he and Simon had fucked in the tiny hotel bathroom. He wanted too much. He knew Simon wouldn't give it to him, knew they were heading for disaster but not slowing down. Taking the money and fucking off was a cowards way out, aye, but at least it meant he couldn't convince himself to come back; to look Simon up; to ask him for one last go (every time was always the last time). And now here Simon was, in Amsterdam, the place Mark had made his home for the last twenty years, still full of charisma and still with big blue eyes and that fucking blonde hair - 

Simon came back out and stiffly sat down again, gasping back the rest of his pint in one go and waving his hand for another. 

"You huv aywis done this, you know. Since we were aboot fuckin seven year old. Fuckin aloofness, actin like ye'd rather be anywhere other than where ye are. See that night - aye ye ken the wan am talkin aboot - last time a fuckin seen ye, it wis as if ye were wae me, completely wae me, present, fur the first time since av known ye. A thought - " his voice caught a wee bit and he quickly composed himself, "A thought we were onty the start ae something, a different you, a different situation. Wae the money we couldae got set up in London or even fuckin here, aye, even Amsterdam, an shook oaf they lead weights. But ye left. A woke up an ye were fuckin gone. Nae cunt believed a didny ken anything, no wae how close we were. A couldny believe a didny ken anything. But that's you Mark, isny it, that's you in a fuckin nutshell." 

Mark thought Simon had maybe had a bit much to drink. That aside, he was Italian, and they were passionate fuckers. "Wit dae ye fuckin mean we couldae been onty something. Ye hud, not a fuckin year prior, watched Begbie threaten ma fuckin life if a was caught at aw that again. Ye fuckin let me take the heat! You fuckin let me down!" Mark was shouting a wee bit but lowered his voice when he noticed people glancing over. Tourist fucks. "And fuck off am a 'aloof'. A dinny hang aff your every fuckin word, is that wit pisses ye aff? A made suhin ae masel and you've no?" 

"Don't you fuckin dare turn this on me ya thievin cunt. Wit wis a supposed to dae. 'Hawd oan a second Franco! It wisny next door Renton wis giein a gammy, it wis me! We've actually been blowin each other every fuckin chance we could git like. Not to worry!' Are you fuckin thick ya doss cunt?" 

Mark considered this for a moment and held his hands up in defeat. "A dunno, something about it just upset me. It wis eywis you and me against it all and a felt alone. Is that far away fae aloof enough fur ye?" 

Simon considered it for a moment then pouted. "Still disny explain why ye left." He was like a surly kid, and it made Mark grin. "Don't fuckin laugh at is!" Simon said in indignation, but he was smiling too. He kicked Mark under the table and they sat in silence for a few moments, not sure where to go from here. 

"A was frightened." 

"Ae wit, Begbie? A telt ye -" 

"Naw, Si. No of Frank. Ae you. A was frightened ae you." 

"Do elaborate." 

"You say you wid huv went away wae me but av known you for donkeys. You didny dae that wae people, wae women. You shagged and shelved, got rid ae people like they didny mean nout to you. You only wanted people who could gie ye something. A was frightened because a knew, once we'd done wit we'd done, that you'd be bored ae me." 

"That's no fair." Was all Simon could say in response. His heart was racing. 

"How no? It's how a felt. Its why a left - well, a big part ae it. A was sick ae Edinburgh, ae junk, ye kent that. But you were a big part ae it." 

Simon stared at his hands on the table and tried frantically to think of a response. I wanted you. I wanted you all the time. I think I had - have - feelings for you. I think we'd be good together. 

Simon said none of those things, and it was Mark who spoke first. "It's late. Ye kin crash oan ma couch." He made a move to get up, fishing a fifty note out of his wallet and putting it on the table. Simon didn't even try to split the bill out of politeness. Cunt robbed him of 4 grand. 

\------

The lights were on in Mark's flat when they arrived, despite it being about half one in the morning. They made their way upstairs and Mark introduced Simon to his wife - a boyish looking woman, with short brown hair and small features (tits included). She nodded at Simon but ignored his outstretched hand. 

"Where have you been?" She snapped at Mark, German roots evident in her accent. "It's one in the morning. I'm up for fucking work tomorrow." 

"Sorry, Kat. Bumped into a mate, like a said." Mark sounded dull when he spoke to his wife. She gave him a look, a silent conversation passing between them, and turned on her heel, slamming the bedroom door behind her. 

Mark's flat was nice; modest. The couch that Simon would sleep on tonight was low down and deep, and he wished he'd just went back to his fucking hotel. No mind, he thought, he was here now. 

"Come to Edinburgh with me, help us out with the project." Simon heard himself saying, knowing the answer would be no, knowing there was no chance. 

Mark rubbed his temples and frowned. "The club... Kat... fucking Begbie even..." he said, and suddenly Simon was approaching him. 

Mark thought he was going to strangle him but instead of his hands, he planted his lips on Mark's neck. His big pillowy lips, right over Mark's pulse. Then his tongue, then his teeth, sucking hard enough to nip a wee bit and doing nothing to prevent Mark hardening in his jeans. Mark's hands hung at his side like a big idiot, frozen in sensation. The smell of Simon's skin was heady and familiar and Mark felt like he was home for the first time in a long time. 

Simon pulled away and rested their foreheads together. His eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply. 

"Don't say no. Just say you'll think about it." He whispered and Mark nodded dopily. "And this is what I meant." He opened his eyes and his mouth titled in a smirk as he took in Mark's huge pupils. "About you being completely in the moment when we do this." 

Simon stepped back. "Geez a duvet then, Rent Boy." He grinned and toed off his shoes, collapsing on the sofa. Mark composed himself and fetched a sheet and a spare pillow from the linen cupboard, wishing Simon a good night. He stumbled into the bathroom, inspecting his throbbing neck. 

There was a huge purple love bite on his skin, dark in the centre and burgundy around the edges. He touched it lightly and hoped Katrin would be too annoyed to look at him when he joined her in bed.


	5. Chapter 5

2016 

\--- Simon --- 

Ma leading man had broken his fuckin dick and a was quite frankly livid. How Mel had managed to fall and destroy Terry's cock ad never ken - she wis either heavy as fuck or his prick was made ae plasticine. Probably baith. 

A had just left the hossy, wishing Terry a speedy recovery, when a decided to phone Mark and see how he was getting on with booking his flights to Edinburgh. 

He picked up on the fifth ring. 

"Alright Si, how's it going buddy?" 

"No bad Rents, no bad at all. Leading man's broken his fucking prick, need to find a replacement asap." 

"That's no why you're phoning is it?" 

"Nae chance, ye actually need to be able to see the cock on camera for this gig," I teased, and his laugh made ma stomach flip. "A was wondering when you're coming ower." 

"Honestly, I've no really thought too much about it... Am up to ma ears in shite with the club and Katrin and aw that," he started moaning, and I could feel him slipping away. 

"All the more reason fur a holiday Mark! Coupla days, see your Ma an Da as well, it'll be good for ye. It'll clear your mind, and plus you do not wanty miss the shit av got going on here just now." 

He hummed on the line for a few seconds and I was ready to jump on a flight and pull the bastard over by the scruff of the neck when he said "Alright, fine. Are ye busy next Thursday? A could come over for a few days, fly back on the Sunday. Al book a hotel the now." 

A wanted to tell him he could kip at mine but I knew he probably didny trust me all the way just yet so a voiced ma satisfaction with his new plans, telling him to text me over his flight times. He hung up and I was fizzing with anticipation. 

A got straight on the phone to Nikki, needing to burn off the adrenalin that was now running riot through my system. 

\-------   
I was chatting to Mo in the Port Sunshine when the door opened and what was unmistakably Mark Renton in a terrible, terrible disguise walked in. 

"Rent Boy!" 

"Shut up!" He hissed, looking furtively around the bar. 

"He's no here, ye can unclench." I told him, and he took his sunglasses and stupid bucket hat off. "When did ye arrive?" 

He sat down on one of the bar stools and stretched out, smiling at Mo who grimaced and went through the back. "This morning. Just dropped my stuff at the hotel I'm at." 

"No at your Ma's?" 

"Nah, dinny want to bring trouble there. Ye ken Leith." 

I got him a pint and we grabbed a table in the corner. I lined up a couple of rows of charlie but he shook his head which amused me. "Mark Renton off drugs, would you believe it." I took both the lines myself because waste not want not an aw that. 

"Tell us about this film." 

I filled him in on Seven Fucks for Seven Brothers and he seemed to like the idea, telling me about a couple of contacts he had in Amsterdam who could help us punt the film. I told him we were filming a scene in a couple of hours upstairs if he wanted to see it and we chewed the fat about his wife, his club and the Port Sunshine. 

The coke made me feel a bit wired and a was hyper aware of the close proximity of our knees, the way his cheeks pinked with each pint. 

"Stop looking at me like that." He said quietly. I licked my lips. 

"Like what?" 

"Like am one ae those birds ye shag." 

"You certainly aren't one ae those birds, Rents." 

His eyes fluttered closed and he exhaled deep out his nose. I was about to touch him when the door banged open and Mel and Nikki burst in. 

A leapt up and embraced them both, kissing Nikki on the lips before a had the chance to think too much into it. 

I introduced them to Mark who was every bit as strange around them as he had been around women when we were kids. It usually worked in his favour, right enough, but fuck knows how. Especially given the ginger condition. 

Nikki eyed him thoughtfully and a didny ken if I was more territorial of her or of him but I decided I would keep them far, far apart. 

The rest of the gang appeared in dribs and drabs and we went upstairs to the studio, Rab setting up the cameras and the likes. Today was the anal scene and the cast got right into it, really going for it today, and I couldn't help but meet Mark's eyes across the room one too many times to be deemed appropriate. 

We called a wrap on the scene and Nikki asked if Mark and I would like to go for a drink with her and Melanie. 

"Mark's just arrived, babe. He'll be too tired," I lied, kissing her. "You looked beautiful today, really fucking good. You're gonnae be a star." 

It seemed to placate her and she didn't push the subject further. Mark and Melanie were getting on really well, chatting in a corner. She was still only half dressed and he was doing a good job of keeping his eyes on her face. I approached them and slung an arm round Mark's shoulder. 

"What yees chatting about?" 

Mark looked at me with what I thought was disdain but I just smiled brightly at him. 

"Mark was just askin me if I've done anything like this before." Mel said and I swear I didn't mean to look at her like I wanted to throttle her, but I really fucking wanted to throttle her. 

"Aye? Well maybe you should put some clathes on before folk get the wrong idea. Porn star or no." My voice wis dripping in distaste and she just looked at me, pulling her top over her head and turning away slowly. 

"Nice to meet ye Mark..." 

"Aye, you tae, Mel." He answered her and looked at me. 

"The fuck's your problem?" He moved ma arm off his shoulder and a just shrugged. 

"She looked lit a slut! She wis annoying me." 

He rolled his eyes in that silent am-better-than-you Renton way. "Dae ye want to go out for a few drinks? Mel wis asking." 

I absolutely did not want to be sat in a bar with him when I could have his lips round ma prick if I played my cards in the correct fashion. I decided to turn on the big guns and I stared at his lips, biting my own bottom lip. 

"I want to fuck you."

His eyes bulged and he looked around frantically. "Are you fucking nuts?" He hissed, but made to put no space between us. "You can't say shite like that, in public..." he was convincing neither of us. 

"Sorry. Just wanted to tell ye. A havny stopped thinking about that night. You're the sexiest - " He slapped a hand over my mouth. 

"You can drop me off, if you want. Ma hotel. The Ibis on South Bridge. But am not promising anything." He grinned at the end and a told him I'd love to. 

We ushered the gang out the bar and I locked up, sticking a tenner in Mo's pocket and telling her to treat hersel to a Chinese or a bottle or witever the fuck old women liked to do of an evening. 

The energy in the car was static as I dropped him off at the hotel. I stopped the car and he made no move to get out, instead turning to me with big expectant eyes. 

"A don't want to be on my own just yet." He started. "A want so much and I don't know how to ask for it," his speech was a bit garbled as he fought to make himsel say what he was thinking and a just looked at him, spent a moment taking in his features and deciding if I really, really wanted to do this. 

Fucking right a did. 

"I'll meet you upstairs in fifteen." I told him calmly and he nodded, telling me his room number and making his way out the car. I took off down the street looking fur a space on a curb to dump the fucking thing. 

I was definitely going to get a ticket but fuck Edinburgh council. What a was on my way to was twenty odd year in the making and, to quote dear old SuBo, wild horses widny hold me back. 

I nipped into the Sainsbury's next to the hotel and grabbed a packet of lube and some johnnies, no sure if I'd need them but only wanting to be polite. 

The lift seemed to take all fucking night to get to the ground floor, and from there it crawled slowly to the forth, where Mark's room was. I barrelled out the lift and found his door, taking a breath and knocking firmly. There was a half second where I expected him not to answer; or to have been stitching me up or to have given me the wrong room. 

There he was, though, moments later. He'd changed into a soft blue jumper and knee length shorts, wearing the free hotel slippers which I smirked at as he beckoned me into his room. 

It was a nice suite, with a kingsized bed and an ensuite bathroom complete with waterfall shower. There was a desk and a mirror, a TV on the wall and a big window overlooking Arthur's Seat. 

I took off my coat and laid it over the chair. 

"Nice digs." I stretched, taking myself in in the mirror - I was wearing my slate grey shirt, grey slacks and gucci belt and a looked pretty good if I do shay sho myshelf. I grinned at Mark's reflection and started unbuttoning my shirt at the wrists, folding it up to the elbow. 

"Ye gonny offer me a drink?" I asked and he jumped into action, fumbling about in the mini fridge and producing a couple of spirit miniatures. 

I sat myself down on the bed, leaning against the head board and caught the vodka he chucked at me, unscrewing the cap and drinking it back in one. 

"Ye got any snout?" I tried, but he shook his head no. I was tempted to take out the wrap of coke I had in my jacket pocket but I was gonna need some patience for what I planned to do. Coke would prove a nightmare. 

I patted the space next to me, and he gingerly sat beside me, legs folded under him. He was visibly on edge, waiting for touch, as aware as I was that for the first time we were alone and we had time and no one would disturb us. 

"Say something." I told him, and he opened and shut his mouth a couple of times like a fucking gold fish. 

"I'm excited to see the eh, the final cut of the movie." He got out, and I shifted onto my side, propped up by the huge pillows. 

"Mhm? What bit did you like best?" I asked, using my voice to what was always devastating effect. Drop your voice juuust right and it goes straight to the genitals, like a charm. 

"Eh. The eh, the bit..." he stopped when I placed a finger tip on his knee, drawing lazy patterns. 

"Go on." 

"The eh. The bit where Nikki ate Melanie while she got shagged up the arse" he breathed, eyes tracking my finger's every move. I put a hand round his calf and tugged, intent on getting a look at that fucking stupid bike tattoo he'd gotten. 

He moved like a rag doll, happy to let me pull him any which way, and fuck was this going to be a good night. 

"Stupid tattoo, Mark." I reprimanded him, tracing that now. "Totally cliché." 

"You're one to talk." He tried to sound cocky but the edge in his voice told me the opposite. He was like a children's book, fucking easy to read. 

"Right enough. Tell me about when you got it." 

He groaned and thudded his head against the head board. "I don't want to talk, Si, can we get on with it?" 

I couldn't help the grin that broke out across my face as I withdrew my hand from his leg. "Tut tut, Rents, have you no patience at all?" 

"Please, fur the love ae god, don't start playing games now," he begged. 

"Do you think you deserve, on any level, me letting you into my pants just like that? Honestly?" I looked at him sternly. 

Last time I'd opened up he'd fucking robbed and abandoned me. He was going to wait, alright, how I'd done for all those years. He'd absolutely bloody deserved this. 

"Probably not. Katrin went ape shite at me because ae the love bite." He said, folding his leg back under himself. "Was convinced I got it down the red light." 

"Imagine even your wife thinking the only way you can get your hole is if it's paid for," I teased, satisfied at the thought of driving a wedge between them. 

"Not giving you any money and I'm pretty sure you're going to knob me tonight." He answered and instead of making me angry, it made me want to take him right fuckin then. I composed myself. 

A pulled my phone out of my pocket, scrolling through my contacts till I got to Nikki and pressing dial. I looked straight at Mark, my face the picture of innocence. 

"Hiya, Nikki babe, you alright? Listen, I might pop round later if I get a chance, leave the door off the chain okay?" 

Renton's eyes narrowed at me and he sat up straighter. Nikki told me she hoped I could make it, even though I had fuck all intention of being there whatsoever, and I hung up with a smirk. 

"I'll take my services elsewhere if you start getting lippy." I told him and he rolled his eyes, the cheeky cunt. 

"Why did I not start getting off with Spud when I had the chance?" He asked the ceiling and I laughed out loud, putting my hand under his shorts and on his upper thigh. 

"Because Spud's a daft cunt and absolutely useless at anything. Take your top off for me." I said, and he did it, throwing it to the ground, freckly white ginger chest all mine. 

I sat up and placed ma thumb over his right nipple, rubbing back and forward. Mark had always liked his nipples being played with since we were kids, the weirdo. Everyone knew that was his thing, nipples, so it came as no surprise to me when he moaned deep and filthy. 

I leant forward and took his other nipple into my mouth, grazing my teeth over it and lapping away with my tongue. He melted into me, panting away like a wee dug. 

"Have you ever came just from this?" I asked a second later, and suspicion crossed his eyes. 

"No, and a don't want to find out. A like it but fuck sake," he said groaned. 

"Shame," I began, "You're so lovely where your nipples are involved." I almost said 'next time', but I caught it at the last minute, careful not to overstep any lines. 

"Siiiiimaaaan," he whinged, "Pleaaaaase." 

I sat up straight. "Has anyone ever told you how needy you are?" 

"Aye, you. Every time we do this. A get it, I'm needy, desperate, keen, I don't care, just stop making me wait." 

I knew he wasn't thinking straight cos he'd normally never admit something like that, only knowing fine well how it would encourage me to do the opposite - or mibby it was some twisted double bluff n he wanted me to make him wait, who knew what went on in that strange wee skull. 

A pulled him up and kissed him then, because he looked so kissable when he was wound up. They were painfully slow kisses, barely touching my lips to his, taking my time to remember how he felt and tasted. 

He became languid enough, his hands on my waist, feather light touches. I controlled the pace, flat out ignoring him every time he tried to speed it up. Lazily I licked his lips with my tongue and he opened up easily and we were necking, flat out, painfully but perfectly slowly. 

I kissed my way across his jaw, down his neck, tasting sweat and aftershave and Mark. 

"You told me, all those years ago, it wasn't gay if you didn't neck." He was breathy and low pitched and it made my cock stir in my trousers. 

I looked at him. "It wouldn't have been gay if you had refused that hand job the first time. It wouldn't have been gay if we'd have tried it and you'd burst into laughter and went soft in ma hand. It wouldn't have been gay if we'd spent more time pulling birds than stuffing each other's cocks in our mouths every chance we got. The ship had long sailed and I was talking pish." I went back to my task an he only swallowed deeply, adam's apple bobbing against ma tongue. 

"You've got too many clothes on," he said instead, and a nipped his collarbone with my teeth. 

"No for you to decide. Lie back." 

He did it, and he looked so fucking beautiful against the big pillows, his hair a shock against the white, his eyes fixed on mine, pupils like saucers, lips parted so slightly, one hand against his stomach, the other on my knee as though he was scared if he wasn't touching me I'd run away. His dick was visible in his shorts, leaning to the right, his ankles crossed at the bottom. I felt strange as I looked at him, almost like I wanted to have a fuckin panic attack or something. He squeezed my leg. 

"You okay?" 

I nodded but then shook my head. "You left me." A said it before a even had a chance to decide if it was a good or a bad idea, and his face crumpled when I did, sitting up and putting a hand on my cheek. 

"Am so sorry. Am so so sorry." He kissed me. "A was young and a was a fucking knob end, everyone knew it. I am so, so, so, so, so sorry," he gasped, punctuating each so with a kiss, and I struggled to keep myself composed. 

I put my hand on his chest and pushed him back down, bracing myself over him and kissing his chest, spending time on each nipple, down his stomach, through the hair connecting his belly button to his pubes. 

I tucked a thumb in the waist of his shorts and kissed tantalisingly slowly across the band, purring when he tugged my hair and wriggled impatiently beneath me. My own cock was starting to hurt stuck in my trousers but I ignored it, too busy with the task at hand. 

Gently and slowly I peeled his shorts down, paying no attention to his dick when it popped out and into my face, as needy as its owner. I discarded the shorts on the floor and sat back between his legs, heart thumping as a flush crept up his cheeks and he whined low in his throat for touch. 

I kissed his knee, then the inside of his thigh, wondering if the vain cunt moisturised because he was soft as fuck. 

"Are you going to kiss my legs or fucking get on with it?" He asked, trying to mimic my voice, referring to the first time he blew me back when we were in our twenties. I laughed against his thigh and kissed my way to his pelvis, before sitting up and asking him to get on all fours and face the wall for me. 

He was a bit apprehensive, noting that I was still fully clothed and he certainly wasn't, but of course he did it anyway, arm muscles straining to take his weight, cock hanging heavy towards the pillows. 

"I wanted to do this to you so many times," I started, smoothing a hand over his backside, "That night in the stair well, I wanted to have you like this so fucking much. I cursed that cunt who interrupted us every night for the last twenty years," and he gasped in anticipation when I blew air across his hole. 

I gave him no warning when I spread him and started lapping away, broad strokes across him that had him pulling forward seeking pressure on his cock and backwards towards my tongue. 

"Jesus fuck," he spat out, and I kept going relentlessly, smacking a thigh when he put a hand back to paw at his dangerously heavy prick. 

"Hands off. I'll let you know when you've earned that." I told him and he moaned low and guttural, pushing back greedily, all but losing his mind when a slid the tip of a finger in beside my tongue. 

A didn't realise he was crying until a couple of minutes later, and a slowed down, gently rolling him over, wiping his eyes with my thumb. "What's the matter? Are you alright?" I soothed him and he nodded frantically. 

"It was too good. A need more. A want more." 

Of course he needed more, he always did, he always had. It's what made him take heroin - this insatiable need for more and no way of getting it. He thought I didn't know that, but of course a fucking did. He was too obvious for his own good. 

I sat up and unbuckled my belt, his eyes lighting up at the sound of the metal buckle being released. 

"Blow me please, Renton." I commanded, settling back against the pillows and reaching onto the bedside table for my fags. He hungrily pulled open my flies and got started, and I lit my cigarette one handed as the other snaked into his ginger hair. I'd never been with anyone, not one person who was as enthusiastic when it came to giving head. I told him exactly that, fag bobbing between my lips, and his eyes lit up with a pride that made my stomach do back flips. 

He was probably going to get fined when he checked out for smoking in the room, but as far as I was concerned that was the least he could do after his disappearing act back in the day. 

I let him deep throat me a couple of times and a fully intended on saving my orgasm for the main event but before I could stop myself I was coming, right down his throat, moaning into the room unashamedly. He popped off and we necked for a bit, pretty disgusting considering where our mouths had just been but definitely not a concern for a pair of ex junkies. 

He was rubbing his cock against my clothed thigh and I almost took pity on him, he'd done really well and he must've been dying but a pushed him aff me anyway, unbuttoning ma shirt and letting it fall to the ground. 

"I'm pretty tired now, like. A nap wouldn't go amiss." I teased. 

"Fuck off," Mark said, dead pan, face falling. "Tell me you are fucking kidding." 

I was about to tell him I obviously was, I wasny a fuckin animal, when he laid back on the bed and started wanking himself off.

"Sorry Si. You're driving me crazy, a canny wait." He groaned as he fucked his fist, and I probably could've stood there and watched him, all muscle and grunts and pink flushed skin, but I kicked off my trousers and got on the bed, my own dick fattening up again, and started talking him through it. 

"Alright, you desperate ginger fuck, get yourself off then." 

"Stop being a prick." 

"Sorry baby." I put a hand in his hair and stroked him softly. "You look breathtaking. I don't think I've ever seen anyone look as gorgeous as you do now, it's a fucking crime you can't see yourself. You're so hot getting yourself off, even though I think you should wait, how can I say no when you -" 

"Stop being too fucking nice!" He groaned and stilled his hand, furiously blushing. 

I took pity on him then and wrapped my own hand around him, at a leisurely pace, just twisting my hand up and down and revelling in the look of utter relief that washed over him, his mouth open in a silent moan. 

"Tell me wit you want, Rent Boy." I whispered in his ear, against the side of his head. "Tell me and al do my best." 

He looked wild, not able to get enough friction from ma hand, torn between leaving and staying here and everything in between. 

A expected him to tell me to fuck off and maybe even start giving me abuse, so a was completely caught off guard when he covered his face with his forearm and started bleating, 

"You, I want you; av wanted ye since we were teenagers and ye lost yer puppy fat; av wanted ye since ye came inty school wi orange hair cos ye'd tried to bleach it blonde; av wanted ye since ye started shagging birds at school and I thought a wid cry wi jealousy; a wanted ye when we first tried skag together an ye looked so fucking blissful and a wanted to know if that's how ye looked when ye came; a wanted ye when we worked on they ferry boats and a telt ye ad never suck yer cock; a wanted ye - " 

A stopped him there because what he was saying was too much, too much for me to process and stay in the moment and stop myself from saying it back, tellin him everythin av wanted to say for years, layin my cards on the table. 

"Mark," I said softly, lifting his arm off his face, kissing him on the lips, "I'm here, you've got me, I'm here right now," and a sob wracked his chest but no tears followed it and a was moving off the bed, grabbing the lube and the condoms and asking um if I needed the johnnies, telling him I was clean and knowing even if he said he wasny a probably wouldn't use them anyway. 

I moved back onto the bed and over him, smothering him, kissing him an touching him an whispering how good he looked and how much I wanted him and how I'd do anythin for him, lubing up a couple of fingers and sliding into him, unable to take my eyes off ma fingers as they disappeared, stretching and feeling and - 

"Shit, fuck, Simon," Mark was panting and digging his fingers into my shoulders and I couldn't wait any longer, stretched his thighs apart and positioned myself between them and pressed in, my eyes nearly rolling to the back of my head at how amazing he felt, beginning to move slowly and in long strokes. 

Neither of us were speaking, just moaning into each other's mouths, and a started building my pace, finding his prostate and hammering it, telling him to touch himself, in awe of his face as he came moments later, his eyes all glassy and teary and his mouth saying ma name again and again, and a grabbed his face and swept his fringe back an stared into his eyes as a came, hard, surprised ma spunk wasny coming out his ears and mouth and wrapping around his brain, coming harder than a have in so long, thinking he was telling me he loved me then realising that was me, I was saying "I love you, I love you," over and over again onto his lips, collapsing on his chest, panting as he wrapped his arms around me an kissed ma head and held me as a unravelled all over him. 

\------

It felt like we laid there for hours. I couldn't catch my breath for an embarrassingly long time and I never wanted to look him in the fuckin face again after the shite I'd just spewed in the heat of the moment, whether a meant it or not. 

He was rubbing circles into my sweaty skin, shushing me like I was a fucking bairn. I eventually found my breath and pulled out of him, semen and lube everywhere, and lay on my back beside him, fumbling for a cig and inhaling it deeply. 

He plucked it from my lips and took a couple of draws, placing it back when he was satisfied. 

"You're some ride, Sick Boy." Mark was propped up on his elbow, a big grin cross his face. His eyes were glittering and he looked like his old self, briefly, full of mischief and wonder, too clever for the likes of me with a proper future before him if he wanted it. He could have had anything back then and he chose me - alright, he chose heroin too, but he picked me. He was choosing me right now and I didn't know how I'd managed it. 

The thing that scared me aboot Mark was that he really really knew me. Those other lassies, all the ones who were 'in love' wi me and all the rest ae it, they didny ken me - they knew a version ae me, whatever one I wanted them to know at the time. 

Mark knew me, wit a was capable of, wit ad done and he was still here, looking at me like I was the best thing he'd ever seen. A didny ken if he was naive or just a good person. A didny ken if there was any distinction between that at all. 

"So I've been telt." I answered, putting out the fag in the empty mini voddy bottle on the bedside table. 

"No quite the same without Begbie and Spud ootside mind," he said and I laughed. 

"That could probably be arranged," A replied, hopping off the bed and grabbing a towel oot the bathroom, making an attempt at cleaning up the bed. 

Renton moved past me and flicked the shower on and a got in beside him because all other lines had been firmly crossed at this point. He had a bottle of shampoo, body wash, a travel sized tooth paste and a toothbrush lined up on the wee shelf and I helped myself, both of us still fighting to fit under the spray even with how enormous the shower was. 

"Could ye no huv waited five minutes?" He admonished and I shoved him with my hip. 

"Water is a privilege, Mark, not a right. Wasting it is frankly distasteful. We should share where possible." 

He had that Renton look in his eye that said he thought I was a fucking pillock so I just smiled at him sunnily and picked up his toothbrush. He grabbed my wrist as I made to squeeze out some toothpaste. 

"No way. No my toothbrush." 

"I just ate your arse." 

"Exactly." 

I yanked my wrist away and began brushing anyway and he shook his head in exasperation and, much to my surprise, leant his head on my chest and sighed out, "I hate you." 

Mark was aywis intense in relationships and a had planned to start roasting him but instead my arms were wrapping round him and I was kissing the top of his ginger heid. It was a kind of intimacy we hadny broached yet, and we stood like that for a while just savouring this tenderness neither of us thought the other was capable of. 

Eventually we hopped out the shower, had a bicker about who deserved the bigger towel (Mark: paid for the hotel, more body surface to dry, had kindly been the one to receive the anal sex. Me: am Simon David Williamson). I got the towel in the end and when I was dried off grabbed a pair of Mark's clean boxers out of his holdall, jumped under the covers (the clean side was my side too, obviously), and felt sleep tug at my consciousness. 

Mark followed me into the bedroom and exasperatedly picked my towel up off the heap on the floor, folded it and slid in beside me, stark naked. 

"I don't want your ginger pubes touching me in the night." I told him and he just put an orangutang arm out and pulled me into him, making me the little spoon which I was a wee bit opposed to but much too tired to protest so I only grumbled for a few minutes. 

"Shut the fuck up ya fucking prima donna," he sighed into the back of my hair, and then his breath regulated and I assumed he was asleep. 

I considered looking in his wallet to see how much he was carrying but quickly decided against it before falling into an exhausted sleep. 

To me, that felt a lot like character development.


	6. Chapter 6

\--- Renton --- 

A was woken up by the awful sensation of my body overheating, that clammy horrible way when your skin's sweaty and everything feels damp. 

The culprit was Sick Boy, draped over my body like a koala on a branch. He was snoring slightly, dribbling a wee bit on ma chest. A ran a hand through his hair and thought his roots were needing dyed, lifting his wrist to check the time on his watch. 10:47am. 

He clamped onto us tighter in response to the movement and a couldny help but smile. He called me needy, insisting I was the one who got 'intense' and 'full on', but yet here he was, clinging onto us like a was a fucking life raft. 

I thought about what he'd said to me last night when he came, telling me he loved me over n over again. It could've just been the euphoria of the moment, and a knew fine well he spoke shite when he was in bed - it had got him into hunners of trouble over the years with birds who had taken him seriously when he'd said it. 

Still, it made ma stomach dance at the thought. A wasny sure what we were now or what we were gonny do but a knew we both felt differently this time - mare mature, a dont know. 

His thigh was pressing inty ma bladder and I nudged him gently, whispering "Si?" Into the room. He stirred a wee bit but ignored me. "Simon." A said louder, trying to move him off me. "A need a pish." 

"You're a selfish cunt." He grumbled and pushed himself up, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "And don't get back in ma bed without any clathes on." He lay down again, his back to me, and I did my business in the bathroom, pulling ma toothbrush around my mouth whilst I was at it. 

A slid back inty bed and checked ma phone, replying to a text from Kat and letting her ken I'd pick up the rest of my stuff when I got back. 

A sent a message to Martin asking him to bell us so we could discuss the club. I was planning on dissolving the partnership. Amsterdam had nothing for me anymare and although neither did Edinburgh, at least ma faimly and Simon were here. Begbie was an issue I could deal with when the moment arose, but until then a wouldny dwell on it. 

I put ma phone down and began tracing patterns on Simon's back. He turned round after a while and cracked open one eye. "Can I help you?" 

A kissed him cos a could. He kissed us back and we just necked for ages, just cos we had time and we were alone and we wanted to. A found masel on top of him, propped up on my arms, blood rushing to my dick the longer we kissed. 

Ma cock was heavy against his hip and he slid a hand between us and pulled his own free of his boxers, lining us up so we could just fuck against each other, slow and lazy and somehow really dirty. 

He kept moaning into ma mouth, biting ma lip, his eyes glued to our grinding hips. A was watching him watching our pricks slide the gither and it was one of the most beautiful things ad ever seen. 

He eventually squeezed his hand down and grabbed us both, jerking us at the same time, him coming first then me, all over the dark hairs on his torso. 

I rolled off him and onto my back, breathing heavily. "How many times have you came in one day?" I asked, looking over at him. 

"Eh?" 

"How many times have you - " 

"A dunno, eight? Nine? Why?" 

I grinned at him. "You're no busy the day are you?" 

"Aye, I am. Av got a pub to run, Renton, we canny all be ladies of leisure like yourself." 

"Let me see how many times I can get you off today. Al come about on your chores or witever yer dain, i'll no get in your road. A think we could hit fifteen at least if we tried. We're already on one." 

He thought about it for a few seconds before he hopped up and picked up his towel, going into the bathroom and switching on the shower. 

It wasny a no. 

\------

We were back in his car (doss fucker had a big parking ticket because he'd been in too much ae a rush to park the car twenty yards up the road, off the double yellows. Cunt calls me needy) and heading off down to the Port Sunshine, where he needed to check on Mo and pick up some documents for a meeting he had later with some anti-drug team. 

We didny have long so a started as soon as the engine was on. 

"I've been gettin masel off thinkin about your cock since a can remember." A said lowly, sliding a hand onto his thigh. He grinned at me, shifting gears and indicating left. 

"You n half ae Leith." He replied, but I could feel his cock forming a semi as I ran a finger ower it. 

"A don't think I'll ever get tired ae blowing you," I shifted in my seat, fumbling at his flies. A prised his cock out of his trousers - it wasny easy considering the position we were in and that he wasny fully erect yet, but a managed. A unclipped ma seatbelt and licked a stripe up him, pleased when he hardened nicely. 

"You're gonny get us fuckin arrested. Every time this car stops at a light folk'll see ye." He protested half heartedly and a knew he was right but a gave no fucks - folk shouldny be looking into the car in the first place and if they did then it wis their ain fault. 

A blew him sloppily, using ma hand too to bring him off quicker. He kept forgetting to change gears which I found hilarious until the car stalled a peach at the end of Princes Street just before Leith Walk and a bus nearly went in the back of us, me just managing not to hit the deck.

"Fuck sake Mark," Simon mumbled as he restarted the engine and took off again. 

"Lighten the fuck up." I replied and I took him back in ma mouth, his hand gripping the back of my neck as he groaned. 

"How the fuck kin a drive this car and come at the same time?" He complained and a nearly popped off n started shouting at the ungrateful cunt but instead a decided to just up my game, praying he'd no crash the car into a fuckin wall or some stupid melodramatic Simon shit. 

"You're making me feel so fucking good," he choked, stopping at a pedestrian, "You could make a fuckin fortune in one ae the saunas dain this man, a fuckin fortune." A felt his dick twitching in ma mouth at his own words and a nearly burst out laughing but a just hummed instead, letting the vibrations tickle his head. "You're no gonny any sauna tho, you're mine, ma personal blow job machine - fuuuuckin hell Rents, shit - " he dropped the car to second gear, put both hands on the wheel and hoped for the best as he came down ma throat, ribbons ae it, so much spunk a thought I was goin to let it slip onto his trousers which would've been the end ae the fuckin world no doubt. 

Dunno where it came from considering he'd came multiple times in the last 24 hours but who was I to question the great Simon Williamson? 

He was crawling along Leith Walk wae a buildup of cars behind him when a sat up, rubbing ma erection through my jeans a few times as I clicked ma seatbelt back in place and took in the dopey expression on his face. 

"Orgasm number two." I said smugly, and he shoved his softening dick back into his clothes. 

"You're fuckin lucky we're still alive. This car's no even insured, ya chancing bastard." 

"Stop fucking greetin and get us to this pub before we spot someone we dinny wanty see," a replied, thinkin about Begbie and his cronies. 

We pulled up outside the Port Sunshine and Simon kicked open the doors grandly, shouting at the two old cunts sat at a table in the corner and wrapping an arm around Mo who shrugged him off irritatedly. 

"Where huv ye been Simon? This isny right ye know, a canny keep dain this. Ye should be here, opening and closing the place at least!" 

"Aye alright Morag, am a busy man, geez peace! Av got the Leith Business Owners Against Drugs lot coming round shortly to discuss our next moves, av been up all night planning!" 

"Have ye fuck. Ye've been up aw night takin drugs mair like." She said under her breath, squeezing past us and disappearing in the back. Si looked after her in rage but decided to let it go, shakin his head and pouring a couple of nips of whiskey into some glasses fur us. 

He explained the Leith against drugs shite to me - he had decided that if he wis thought to be leading the charge against drugs, naeone would suspect he was dealing out the back of the pub - and served the old boys a couple ae half pints after one ae them had stood at the bar fur ten minutes waiting on service. He disappeared in the back for a couple a minutes and was clearly taking a line, coming back out and rubbing his nose on the back ae his arm. He visibly buzzed, and I cringed a bit. There wis nothing worse than Sick Boy when he was charged and hyper. 

Afore long the boys he was meeting arrived and he took them upstair, leaving me at the bar wae Morag who couldn't hold me in anymare obvious contempt if she tried. A didny ken if it was because she was a crabit old boot or if she knew about ma disappearing act back in the day but a slunk into the bogs anyway, no bothering wasting ma time wae the old hag. 

A took out ma phone and sent Simon a picture ae ma hand wrapped around ma dick, sending a message telling him a was horny as fuck and wanted him right fuckin now. 

He replied 2 minutes after it: 

Simon Williamson: dont send me shit like that the now 

Mark Renton: why no? Is it making you hard in your important meeting? 

Simon Williamson: fuckin quit it. 

Mark Renton: mind they wanking competitions we used to huv when we were wee laddies? A bet a could still beat ye 

Simon Williamson: could ye fuck. Away and pester Morag 

Mark Renton: aye a could. You always came fast as fuck

Simon Williamson: felt sorry for ye at the time, widny be taking any prisoners now but 

Mark Renton: is that a yes? 

Simon Williamson: if a come first, you need to give Curtis a blow job in the scene later 

Mark Renton: if I come first YOU need to give Curtis a bj 

Simon Williamson: get ye in the basement in twenty 

I went down the hatch into the basement and sat on a beer barrel, waiting on Sick Boy joining me. He kept me waiting ten minute longer than we had planned, obviously, and snorted a line before he jumped up on a barrel opposite me, unbuckling his belt. 

"Rules are, hand must be moving at aw times. Obviously you've got an unfair advantage given that ye've came twice the day but al let it slide." 

We held eye contact as we both played around with our dicks, trying to get them hard. A got there first and Simon started tryin to blame his delay on the coke before a shut him up and telt him to get his excuses to fuck. 

When we were baith ready, Simon counted from 3-1 and we began, the basement just filled wi the sound ae skin on skin. 

Simon wis staring at me wi heavy eyes, leaning back on one arm as he slowly moved his hand up and down his length, biting that big pillowy bottom lip and moaning exaggeratedly. 

A looked away cos the sight ae him alone would've been enough to bring me off right then - I used to look anywhere but at him when we were younger, scared he'd ken he'd made me come just wi the sight ae him. 

"Against the rules, Rents, ye have to look at me." He declared. 

"Naw a don't! That's never been a rule," I challenged, slowing down the pace of ma fist. 

"It is a rule, av just made it one. A let ye off when we were wee but its aw out in the open now, eyes on me at aw times." 

A rolled ma eyes at him and decided to cringe later on that he'd kent what a was up to even back then. 

A moaned loudly, porn star style, decidin to play him at his own game. A needed an edge of sorts here - he'd came twice already and a was horny as it was after blowing him in the car. Plus he had the coke in his system and it wid either stop him from being able to pace himsel or make him take ages getting off and it looked like it wid be the latter as he was still fuckin his fist at a leisurely pace, smirking away. 

Dinny get me wrong, I'd no be devastated if I had to suck Curtis' fourteen inch monster - in fact, the thought ae Simon doing it even made us a wee bit jealous - but losing to this cunt just would not do. 

"I can still feel your cock in me if I squeeze," I breathed, bringing up a hand to toy with my nipples, "So fucking big. Dunno how I could take you all, thought I'd break that first time. I want you to fuck me again, right now, tonight, the morra, any time I can get ma hands on you." I licked ma lips. 

"Keep talking baby, ken how hot it makes you when someone's talking dirty in your ear. Everyone always thought a wis the slutty one out the two of us but jesus christ if anyone could see you now..." 

How he affected me so easily a didny ken but it wis extremely frustrating. Ma body just reacted to his voice against ma will, and a was squeezing masel harder, ma body desperate to come or touch Simon or baith. 

"Sittin downstair in my pub gettin yourself off, makin me so hot just lookin at ye, a fuckin masterpiece. You should come, Mark, come for me," he was telling me n a was thinking desperately of Begbie, of Spud, of anythin to stave off this orgasm, the friction of ma hand relentless and the energy building in ma veins. 

"Come for me Rent Boy, I want to see how fuckin gorgeous ye look when ye come," and at that a was spunking aw aer masel, biting ma t shirt so a widny shout and let every cunt in the pub hear me, feeling euphoric as I came but then angry at masel that I'd lasted all of five fuckin minutes and now a had to blow that fuckin Curtis on tape in front ae the whole cast of Simon's stupid production. 

"You're too easy." Simon laughed and he was coming too, careful to point it anyway from himself so as not to mark his designer gear. 

"Number three," I said exasperatedly, grabbing a tea towel off one of the shelves and mopping masel up. 

"Nothing to be ashamed of Rents," Simon said as he approached me, tugging me up to his lips so he could kiss me. "Get ready for the blow job ae your life," he said and sorted himsel a line. 

"Go easy on that Simon, ae?" I said gently n he looked at me like ad just telt him I'd really like a threesome wae him n Begbie. I felt like a prick, lecturing him on drugs - especially given ma ain past, but we wereny twenty anymaire and it didny suit him. He wis Sick Boy times ten when he wis coked up and it didny do him any favours. 

He snorted it anyway, eyes never leaving mine, a challenging expression on his face like he was a petulant bairn touching a china bowl in a shop he'd been warned to stay the fuck away from. 

I shook ma head at him and he bounced up the stair, his voice travelling down as he spoke shite to Morag. 

A sorted masel and followed him, tellin him a was away out for something to eat and I'd be back later fur the scene. He didny say anything to me as a left and a could feel him calculating how to get back at me fur daring to tell him what to do. 

A tugged ma hood low over ma face and found masel in a wanky artisan coffee shop. I ordered a latte and an egg roll and just watched out the window for a bit, taking in Leith and thinkin about how things hud panned out. 

Martin phoned me at one point and we discussed plans for the club, him sorry I was leaving. I was too, in a way - I'd been proud ae what I'd achieved and it was sad to turn ma back on it. That was life, though. Nout was permanent. 

\------ 

When a was finished a headed back to the pub, enjoying the sunshine n feeling relaxed. I was a wee bit late for the start of the scene but I hoped Simon would be too preoccupied to notice. 

I walked past Mo and straight to the back stairs, following the unmistakeable sound ae Simon barking orders and bossing folk about. 

When a got upstair the cameras and the lights were set up, Melanie n Curtis in the middle ae a scene, the rest ae the cast milling around half dressed or completely naked. Terry was there at the back, just observing like as he was still out ae action, and a clapped him on the back when a came in. 

"Alright Mark?" He whispered, smiling at me. 

"Aye Tel, no bad mate. How's the wee man?" I asked, and he patted his crotch. 

"Gettin there Mark, gettin there. Here, wit the fuck's up wae Sick Boy the day? He's bein mare ae a nightmare than usual," he telt me, and a looked over at where Simon wis perched, eyeing the scene intently, a naked Nikki on his lap. 

A chose not to let it bother me, turning back to Terry instead. "Dunno man, just wan ae they days. He been bad aye?" 

"Just fuckin wired, Renton. He's lit a fuckin guitar string." 

A grimaced and flinched when Simon bellowed "CUT!", everyone groaning in annoyance. He pushed Nikki off his lap and walked onto the set, telling Mel she wis shite, she needed to do this facial expression and make that noise, tellin Curtis he wis like a skateboard wae a dildo strapped to it and could he please put some fuckin oomph into it? 

A walked further inty the room and said hello to Nikki, who looked at me suspiciously as if it was ma fuckin fault the cunt wis high as a kite. 

"Rent Boy!" Simon shouted as he spotted me, making a bee line. "Oh fuckin yes, the fun starts now!" He grabbed me in a hug as the actors started again. 

"You alright Si?" I asked him and he ignored me, instead putting one arm round me, one round Nikki, and talking gibberish about how this film wis gonny make them aw famous, gonny make him millions. 

"Would you calm down, Simon?" Nikki hissed at him and he dropped her shoulder, glaring at her. 

"Fuck off and be miserable somewhere else, then," he retorted and turned to me. "See that cock over there Rents? You ready to suck it?" 

A raised my eyebrows and nodded half heartedly. "Do the cameras have to be on?" 

"Of course. CUT!" He stomped back onto the set and crouched down beside Curtis. He said a couple of words then pointed at me, and a inwardly cringed - this wis gonny look bizarre as fuck, especially wae the rest of the crew here. 

A shrugged out ae ma coat and approached them, shaking hands wae Curtis who looked at me apprehensively. "Simon filled ye in mate?" 

"Aye..." he said, clearly confused as fuck. 

"We dinny have to dae anything ye dinny want to," a said to him, no wantin to make the wee guy uncomfortable man. He couldny have been any older than 18 and a had a fleeting notion to ask fur his ID but Simon wis clapping us baith on the back, tugging at the bottom ae ma t shirt, bouncin around like he had ADHD. 

"Right everyone, av written a gay scene, am tryin to account for all viewers here. Mark plays Mel's boyfriend who's just found out she's cheating on um wae Curtis." He danced off to the side, full ae mischief, obviously enjoying the discomfort between me and the laddie in front ae me. 

Someone shouted that the cameras were rolling and Curtis looked like he didny ken if he needed a shite or a shave so a just put a hand on his chest n pushed him down onto the wee sofa thing they hud bought, pullin ma tshirt over ma head n grabbing his fuckin monster cock in ma hand. He wis still hard, thank fuck, but he wis obviously no in any sense ae the word gay n a bit apprehensive. 

A opened ma mouth n started taking him, his hands hovering over ma head. 

"Grab his hair! He fuckin loves it when ye pull his hair," a heard Simon shout n ma face flamed up. He wis being a fuckin pest, laughing exaggeratedly n cat calling over fae the corner. A hand gripped ma hair and pulled it sharply and a hissed a wee bit around his cock, Curtis takin it as a good sign n tugging some mare. 

When a got into ma stride he started to loosen up n began to enjoy himsel, no makin any noise but just starin it me n pumpin his hips sporadically. We baith got into it actually n a felt masel hardening in ma jeans, forgettin about the folk around us watchin in fascination. 

Simon's voice eventually went quiet n a assumed he wis bored ae his wee game but the next thing a knew he wis stamping onto the set n shouting "CUT!", pulling me back by the shoulder n glaring at me as if ad fuckin done this all on purpose. 

"A think you're enjoying that a bit too much Rent Boy." He hissed n a stood up, pickin up ma shirt n frowning at him. 

"Wits the fuckin problem Simon?" A wis confused as fuck - he'd worked himsel up into this fuckin state out of nowhere and now that he was in it, he couldny get out. He'd been excitable like this when we were younger but he'd learned to put a lid on it, keeping himsel in check. The coke did nothing to aid his self control. 

"Am just sayin like, al gie ye Curt's number if you're wantin it. Just say the words." 

A shook ma head at him in disbelief n walked off set, sitting down beside Terry who wis lookin at Sick Boy with disdain. 

"Nice work there Renton, wae Curtis like. A couldny ae done it." He said, no takin his eyes off Simon, n a mumbled ma thanks. 

Simon was now pestering Nikki who was extremely pissed off, flinching away from him every time he touched her.

"What's the matter? Why ye bein a bitch?" He started shoutin n she looked at me, they aw looked at me, like a wis his guardian and should be takin care ae him n removin him from the situation when he wasny playin well wi others. 

A sighed n got up, approaching him slowly, putting a hand between his shoulder blades n steering him towards me. "Si, I want to go home. Let me take ye home n take care of ye," I said quietly, just so me n him could hear. Nikki wis puttin on her clothes beside us n the camera crew were talkin about packing up for the day. 

He moved away from me n shook his head. "Naw, am workin Mark. Dinny undermine me in ma place of work." 

A could huv punched him for bein so fuckin irritating. 

"Am no askin ye, am tellin ye. Yer makin an arse ae yersel. Gon come wae me." A started pullin ma coat on n he made to walk away from me but Nikki stood in front ae him. 

"I think you should go home, Simon." She said. He looked from her to me to Terry who was shaking his head, and the rest ae the crew who were looking anywhere but at us. 

"Fuck the lot ae you," he huffed out n walked to the door, pickin up his coat storming out, shouting behind him that we were aw cunts and it wis his pub n his production n his fuckin porno.

A smiled an apology at the guys n followed him, joggin to catch up wae him as he stormed down the stairs and out the pub, into his car. A managed to get in the passenger seat before he tore off, no speakin to me, gripping the steering wheel white knuckled. 

A didny say anything cos a knew it was futile. He rammed the car into a space when he got home and sat rigid in his seat, staring out the windscreen. A turned in my seat to face him. 

"Let me take care of you." I said softly, biting the bullet and just saying what I felt. "We kin work this energy out in another way, n then we'll have a nap, something to eat, you've no eaten all day. They'll no care about this the morra." 

He looked at me n it was like he wanted to rip ma throat out but also like he wanted to greet. 

"Am no judgin ye fir takin drugs, ye ken a widny, ye ken me. But it's no good for ye. Look at ye." I ventured, n he got out the car then, slamming the door. 

A followed him up the stair to his flat and when we got through the door he sat down heavily on the couch and pit his head in his hands, then he was smacking his head again and again, shouting in frustration, and by the time a got to him and grabbed his wrists he was crying, leaning inty me and greetin into ma neck and I thought that this wis how it should always have been when he got like this, me taking care ae him, rather than us turning to skag or him doin somethin fucked up and stupid and me too feart ae what everyone wid think to be there for him how he needed me to be there. 

"It's alright, you're alright. Av got ye, am here," I soothed him, rubbing a hand along his back. 

It wasny long before he was kissing me furiously, his hands tugging ma clothes off, his breath short and quick. I went willingly cos a knew he needed this and there was nothing a wouldny give him, as much as it scared me to admit. 

He fucked me into the couch roughly and we both came pretty quickly, him managing to hold off until a had gone first which was considerate of him given the circumstances. 

He lay on me for a bit after it, coming down both from his coke high and his orgasm. A didny say anything, and a was drifting off when he spoke. 

"A hate it when a get like that." His voice was small. 

"I thought you were fine, this morning. It just came out of nowhere." A replied, choosing not to mention the drugs. 

"A was. A just felt like a line, then a couldny stop, then am no in control anymore. And a didny like seeing you with Curtis. A thought a wouldny mind but a hated it." 

"It's alright. You canny keep taking what you've been taking. We can work on it, al help ye. A want to help ye." 

"Am sorry ye didny get to make me come all those times." 

"I'll get round to it at some point," a murmured into his hair. "Also, your roots are badly needing done." 

"A canny believe am being lectured on hair by a fuckin ginger." 

We fell asleep like that, no really fitting on the couch but content anyway. Both ae us were naked, which made things awkward when we were jolted awake by a hammering on the door, Begbie's voice shouting through the letter box.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up - there's some violence in this chapter which i'm very sorry about. Such is life when writing about Frank Begbie! 
> 
> Tytyty for reading and leaving me lovely comments and being all round cracking people. One chapter to go!

\-- Renton -- 

"Sick Boy!!! Open the fuckin door!" Begbie's voice, urgent and aggressive, came through the letter box and inty our bubble, his fist leathering the door. 

Simon jumped off me like lightening, tugging his boxers on, eyes like a trapped animal. "Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck," he panicked and I scrambled to pick up ma clothes, ducking past the kitchen windae and squeezin masel inty the wardrobe in his bedroom. 

"Stay still," Simon stage whispered in ma general direction and a rolled ma eyes. 

"Thank god ye telt me," a hissed back, "a was planning on dain some fuckin yoga!" 

He scarpered back to the door and a heard him yanking it open. "What's the matter Franco?" His voice wis a wee bit shaky n a prayed he wid pull it the gither. 

"He's here. In Leith. Some cunt saw um." 

A hoped Begbie's shark nose had lost its ability to pick up fear cos a fuckin shat it then, ma heart drumming, hoping he didny mean me - knowing he definitely meant me. 

"Who?" Simon responded, voice quieter - movin away fae the bedroom. 

"Renton. Gaz saw um in that fuckin posho cafe the day! Artisan cunty coffee yin! Cunt's like a fuckin cliché ae umsel!" 

"No way? The wan in the port? A canny believe it," Simon responded. A thought about squeezin masel out the window but knew that wis stupid as fuck so I held ma breath n counted down from 10 in ma head soas I wouldny hyperventilate. 

"Aye, the very fuckin same. Stupid ginger cunt, showin his fuckin face roond here. The fuckin cheek ay it! Does he no think av got eyes n ears every fuckin where in this place? Does the doss cunt no realise a ken everythin that goes on here?!" Begbie was shoutin again, the sheer force ae his voice enough to make me wish a believed in God, just soas a had some cunt to pray to. 

"A canny believe this Franco. Gaz wis sure? Mark Renton?" 

"Of course he wis fuckin sure! Take it yev heard nout then?" Begbie asked accusingly n Simon answered a wee bit too fast: 

"Nut. Nout. Nae cunt tells me anythin, no anymare," he lied. 

"Am gaunny go round his Ma's. We'll get that cunt if its the last thing a dae. Fuckin let me - is that spunk yer covered in ya mingin cunt?" 

"Eh, aye... av no long hud a ham shank..." Simon said quietly n a wouldae laughed was a no shitting myself and now feart for ma fuckin Maw's safety as well. 

"Get a bath ya horrible fucker. And let me ken if ye hear anythin. See um, ye bell me right away. He's no walkin back oot ae Leith the way he came in, Sick Boy, mark ma fuckin words." Begbie growled, n then a heard them sayin their goodbyes, the door clicking shut. 

A stayed where a wis just incase. The wardrobe door got yanked open a couple ae moments later n a all but fell out, pullin on the claiths a was holdin in ma arms. 

Simon was pacing, his hands on the back ae his head like he was under arrest. 

A phoned ma Ma's house number but naeone picked up. Hopefully they widny be in when Begbie got round there, but it wis only buying time. He'd get them eventually - mibby if a telt them nout they could honestly say they had nae clue and they'd be awright. 

"A didny ken a wis being watched," a said, sittin on the edge ae the bed, watchin him pace, back n forward, back n forward, back n forward. "A thought a wis careful the day. A didny expect to see a fuckin Frank Begbie associate in that café. It did fuckin artisan coffee for fuck sake!" Simon was silent. "He's as crazy as ever then?" A tried when Simon didny answer me. "Si?" 

He walked into the living room n lit himsel a fag, hands shakin around the lighter. 

"Simon?" A went to him and waved a hand in his face. He ignored me. A reached out to touch him n he flinched away, taking a deep puff on his cigarette n sitting down on the edge ae the couch, body taught like a cat ready to run. 

A knelt in front ae him n put a hand on his knee, gently, carefully. 

"Wits up? Speak to me." 

He looked it me. "We. Begbie. Wit if he'd seen us?" He spat out, and a recoiled fae him a wee bit. 

"Ih? He's just threatened ma fuckin life and you're still worried he thinks you're a fuckin buftie?! Have you no fuckin compassion whatsoever?" A hated how emotional a sounded but a wis shocked - he couldny be serious. 

"You did fuckin rob him Renton." Simon snapped. 

"Wit is the fuckin matter wae you? Are you joking me?" 

"Am no - I don't want folk to think -" 

"What happened to 'this wouldny have been gay if bla bla bla?!'" A shouted at him, standing up to ma full height, feelin tears ae anger and disbelief prickling behind ma eyes. 

"It's different when we're alone. You cloud ma judgement. You - "

"Don't you fucking dare. Naw. Simon. Don't make this ma fault. Don't make this like we're twenty again n scared ae ourselves n the way we feel. I want you, I want to take care ae you, I want to fuck you and love you and be with you all the time. It's you and me, it's always been you and me, there's nout else - " 

"Shut up, shut up, a canny listen to this! You're making me fuckin crazy!" He shouted, standing up. 

"I'm no making you anything! This is you. This is who you are. You're no thinking straight because ae Begbie!" 

"It's no who I am. It's who you make me. You do this to me." 

A didny even realise a was greetin till he looked at me n told me to man up. It wis like a slap in the face. 

"So al just leave? Al go back to Amsterdam, we'll forget about each other. We'll find someone else. We'll pretend we've no felt like this for literal DECADES Simon. All because ae that fuckin clown?" A knew I sounded desperate but that's because a was. "He used tae control us when we were kids. You're lettin him control ye now." 

He didny say anything, just stubbed his cigarette out on a plate on the coffee table and put his head in his hands. 

"Fuck this." A said and started pulling on ma shoes, angry and upset and just fuckin tired ae this, him dain this. 

He was crying now too, looking at me like he wanted to ask me to stay but makin nae moves to open his mouth. 

"A shouldny have let you finish things between us when we were younger. A regretted it every day. A made a mistake. You're dain that now. You're takin the easy way out." A tried one more time, and he got up and grabbed me, wrapping his arms around me, tucking his head in ma neck. 

I held him and my legs nearly buckled with relief - until he spoke. "I'm not brave enough." His voice was small, his breath ghosting my skin. I pushed him away. 

"Fuck you, Sick Boy." I sneered, and I was at the door, across the landing, down the stairs. I hailed the first black cab I saw and asked it to wait as I went straight to the hotel, throwing my shit into my holdall, no able to look at the bed we'd slept in the night before. 

A asked the taxi to take me to the airport and stared dejectedly out the window as an Edinburgh a didny recognise sat still whilst a sped forward. 

 

\-- Simon -- 

I screamed and fucking screamed into the silence when he left, livid at myself, at Begbie, at the universe for making me this way and then placing me in these circumstances. 

Renton's words kept swirling in ma brain and I felt sick at the thought of them. 'This is who you are. I want you. I want to take care of you.' A collapsed on the floor and thought about what a could take that would get his voice out my head. Heroin would work, aye, but a wasny that desperate. Yet. 

A must've laid there for ages because eventually it got dark and Nikki was at the door, letting hersel in with the key I'd forgotten I'd given her. She fussed over me when she saw me, asking if I was okay, what I'd taken, was I hurt? She hoyed me up and took me into the bathroom, flicking on the shower and helping me out of ma boxers. 

A didny have the strength or the will to stand up so a sat and she washed me, god love her, washed any traces ae Mark off my skin and down the drain. She didny ask me any more questions and a didnt know if it was because it was obvious or because she was scared of the answer but a appreciated it anyway. 

She helped me into bed and just held onto me for a bit. "What's happened, Simon?" She eventually asked gently. A didny answer. "You've no been yourself all day. I'm worried about you." 

"It's nout. I don't want to talk about it." A telt her, and she didny press it.

I fell asleep n dreamt about the look on Mark's face when a told him a loved him, the night before. 

\--------- 

We slept together the next morning. I needed to get him out my system and I needed to remind myself a was straight, a liked women, fanny, tits, soft lips, hairless thighs. Nikki never said anything when it took me ages to get it up. 

I was down the pub most of the day. Begbie came in in the afternoon and telt me Renton's folks had nae clue where he was. I couldny muster the energy to act like a cared which pissed the psycho right off but he didny threaten me or that so I put it down to him having mellowed out a wee bit in his old age. 

I toyed with the idea of taking a line when he left but decided against it after my performance yesterday. I didn't need any encouragement to lose the fuckin plot given the way I was feeling. 

I thought about going up to Mark's hotel to see if he was there, and maybe talking. I had no idea what a wanted to say but I wanted to make sure he was okay. I tried to bell him but his phone went right to answer machine, the fucking prick. 

How could he blame me for being scared? How could he assume I'd want any one round here to know what we did? It was alright for him, he'd been out there in fucking metrosexual Europe living it up and exploring himself and I'd been stuck in the UK surrounded by pimps and dealers and the kind of folk who took no prisoners with men like me - naw, men like him. Men like me when I was with him. 

I phoned some of the cast of Seven Fucks and asked if anyone wanted to get fucked up and go out the night. Folk were game and I shut the pub early, lifting the voddy from behind the bar as I left. 

\-- Renton -- 

Katrin let me stay at the apartment while a found somewhere more permanent. She was a good person, and a felt bad we'd grown apart. 

A turned ma phone off as soon as a was on the flight. It felt cathartic almost, landing back in the Dam. This was where I'd run from Simon twenty year ago, and a would've laughed at the ridiculousness ae me being here again in the exact same situation were the circumstances not so dire. 

A day. We'd lasted a day in our new found maturity. Less than a day if ye counted his fuckin coke fuelled freak out. 

A wondered if I was expecting too much ae him. If he was right, and being together like that was stupid and dangerous. I was willing, though, to take the risk. I didn't want to settle for whatever I could get any more - I wanted to have what I'd always wanted for once in ma life. I thought he'd wanted the same. 

I turned ma phone back on a couple of days later and a had 23 missed calls from him and 1 voicemail. I contemplated deleting it but curiosity got the better ae me, and a put the phone to ma ear with adrenalin pumping around my system. 

"You have 1 new message and 3 saved messages. Message 1, received on Sunday at 3:25am from 07453981079. Message: 'Rent Boy! Ya fuckin prick. Where did ye go? Fuckin left me again haven't ye... went to the hotel. They said you'd left days ago. Wasny surprised. Just like you, isn't it?'" 

His voice was slurred and he was clearly drunk. There was noise around him, like he was outside a club or something. A buzzed with anger at his words. Making out it was ma fault this had happened and that I'd somehow betrayed him by leaving Edinburgh. 

"'Am no gay. A like women. A just like you. You're driving me fuckin wild. A - aye, one minute Tel! A need to go. You'll probably no listen to this. Al probably no see ye for another twenty year, then we'll be fuckin sixty odd and still dain this same shit. A hate you, Mark, fuckin hate you for all this. Gon at least text me so a ken you're awright? Or dinny, witever ye want. Am away. Catch ye.' To listen to your message again, press 2. To delete your - " 

A hung up and stared at the wall for a good wee while, just in awe ae his fuckin ability to make every situation suit his stupid narrative. He'd telt me he didny want to be with me - which was somehow ma fault - and it was ma fault again that I'd left him. A decided to text him, just once, just for some kind ae closure on the shite. 

Mark Renton: you need to have a good hard look at yourself Simon. Decide what ye want or leave me alone. A ken who I am, do you know who you are? 

A sent it and exhaled deeply, the notion that a was running around in circles almost nauseating. A went out that night and gave some guy in a club a blow job and came home and cried into ma couch. 

\-- Simon -- 

It mustae been a month after I'd made that stupid drunk phone call and Mark had texted me the most patronising reply in the world. A was in the pub, seconds away from slamming ma head off the bar and ending it all when Mark's Da came in, looking worse than ad ever seen him. 

"Alright Simon?" He asked, approaching the bar. 

"Aye no bad Renton, yourself?" 

"No the best Simon. Mark's had a heart attack. He's been in surgery the last few days, they're fitting a new valve. They think it's gonny be successful but they're no sure the now." 

Ma head spun. "Ih?" 

"Sorry, Simon, a ken yees wereny on good terms. A thought ye'd wanty ken but." 

"Naw... aye, thanks... is he - he's stable?" 

"Aye, from wit av heard. His wife's lookin eftir um. We canny afford to go oot there the now so its updates fae her we get just." 

"Cheers for lettin us ken..." I told him and offered him a pint on me but he telt me naw, excusing himsel as quickly as he came. A flash of paranoia went through me as a considered that he'd just came and told me cos he knew how things were between us but a convinced myself it was just because he was upset and wanted to feel like Mark had folk here who cared whether he lived or died. 

I went to phone Mark before a realised he likely widny be answering and a felt sickness tug at ma stomach. A fuckin heart attack? He wis young! 

I thought that he might not pull through this. A ran to the toilets at the thought and retched a bit but nothing came up. I wanted to see him and tell him I didn't care about Begbie and those cunts at home and that I would try, for him, I'd try. I wanted to say those things but the thought of it made ma stomach turn faster and I was suddenly furious at ma incapability to just own this, as I did everything else, as he seemed to do so flawlessly. 

If I wasn't Simon David Williamson, connoisseur of fanny and completely in control of everything around me then what was I?

Simon David Williamson who was besotted with his best pal and occasionally liked penis. It wasn't the worst reputation I'd ever had or probably would ever have again but it still frightened me. 

I picked myself up and returned to the bar, deciding there was nothing I could do to help Mark and that if he was to pull through then I'd reevaluate the situation. 

I went home that night and couldny sleep. I saw every hour on the clock. 

\------ 

Begbie barrelled into the pub a couple of days later like a bat out ae hell and dragged me through the back. He was visibly shaking. 

"Have ye heard?" 

"Heard wit Frank?" 

"Renton. He's in Amsterdam. Cunt's hud a heart attack! A fuckin heart attack, wid ye believe it?" 

A shook ma head at him in disbelief. 

"Fuckin deserves it like, thieving poof. Ad prefer if it didny kill him mind, that's ma fuckin decision tae make." 

It wasny even out his mouth before a smacked him in the face, ma fist colliding with his jaw the same way ad dreamt of for years. He didny topple ower or that, just stared at the wall in shock for a minute as a held ma now throbbing hand. 

"Wit the fuck wis that?" He growled and a took a step back. 

"Dinny talk about um like that. It's no - " 

Begbie rammed his forehead into my nose and I hit the deck like a sack of shit, groaning as blood started gushing down my face. 

"Jesus Frank!" 

"Wit the fuck is it tae you wit a call um?!" Begbie shouted, the cogs turning in his head. "Huv you seen um?!" 

A didny say anything so he booted me in the side, making me double over in pain. 

"You better start talking ya fucking prick!" 

"Am no bothered about the fuckin money anymare Frank! It wis twenty year ago!" 

Begbie looked at me like a had lost the fuckin plot. "You... were you in it wae um?" 

"Naw! Av told ye this till am blue in the fuckin face. I didny ken. He left me an all. We - we'd been the gither, before it. Like that. He left because ae that." A couldny believe I'd just telt Begbie, and it must've been the adrenalin causing me no to think straight cos he hauled me up by my shirt, holding ma bloody face dangerously close to his. 

"Tell me you are fucking joking." He spat into ma face, hardly opening his mouth. "Tell me you are winding me the fuck up." 

A shook ma head at him and he threw me back on the floor, pacing and looking at me like a literal piece ae shit. He started laying inty me then and a just curled up and took it cos it was the least a deserved, for wit a wis and wit ad done. 

He got wrenched off me eventually and I was aware of a woman, Nikki, helping me up, and noticed Terry was fighting with Begbie on my behalf. Terry wis a big guy and although he'd probably come out on top in this particular fight, it was the lasting animosity he needed to worry about. 

A tried to tell him that, tried to shout as Nikki pulled me out, but a couldny speak and I could taste blood in my mouth. She loaded me into Rab's car outside the pub and they took me up to the Western. 

Begbie had broken my nose and a couple of ribs but other than that I was just badly bruised. I was lucky he hadn't had a weapon with um, lucky that the crew were due for filming when they were. 

I told the hospital staff it was a couple of hooligans who had tried to rob the pub and told the same to the police when they came for a statement. 

"Why are you lying?" Nikki asked when we were alone. 

"Am no a grass. No even for the likes of him." 

"What did he do it for?" She asked, and I hesitated. 

"I told him how I felt about Mark. He didny like it." 

"Mark? Mark Renton? What do you mean?" She asked, and I just looked at her, hoping that would be enough. "You're... gay?" 

A shook my head. "Just him." A said quietly and she put her hand over mine. 

"I - what does that mean for us?" 

"I dunno, Nik. I haven't thought about it. But that's how I feel." 

She went to hug me but remembered ma ribs and just settled for squeezing my hand. I could have cried with the relief that flooded ma body. She didny seem to be judging me, neither did she appear surprised.

"It was kind of obvious, Simon." She said and I frowned at her. "You're different when he's there. You do what he says. I had wondered." 

I made the decision then to go over and get the ginger cunt. I reasoned that I was gonny be miserable regardless, so a might as well be miserable with him. 

\-- Renton -- 

I'd been out running one moment and the next I woke up in hospital. 

They informed me that I'd had some kind ae heart attack and that they'd fitted me with a metal valve. I'd live, they telt me, but I'd never get through airport security hassle free again. 

Katrin had looked after me well enough, keeping my family updated and telling me the guys from the club were asking after us. A asked if anyone else had asked for me and she said no. I wasn't surprised. 

I got discharged a couple of days after, given hunners of meds and a rigorous self care plan. Katrin set me up in her bed and made me some soup n that but eventually got bored and realised I was fine and gradually left me to it. 

The door went in the afternoon one day when a was vegetating in bed and a heaved ma heavy bones up and to the door. 

I opened it and almost laughed at Simon's sorry fuckin face hovering in front ae me. 

"Fuck off." A said, and slammed the door on the prick.


	8. Chapter 8

\-- Renton -- 

A dunno how a found the self restraint to close the door on him, especially given the huge black eye he wis sporting and my track record when it came to tellin him naw. A sat down in the arm chair and willed ma heart to level out, no needing another heart attack here. 

He knocked again. "Mark? Please talk to me. I'm sorry." He shouted through the door and a wanted to let him in so badly, like muscle memory, no holding back any part of masel he was asking for. 

"Please let me explain. Geez a chance to explain. I willny do it again." He kept saying and a fought it, fought the way ma body involuntarily reacted at the sound ae his voice. A deserved better, ad decided. There wis no denying the way a felt about Simon - but he was incapable ae behaving like an adult when it came to us. He had issues to deal with that a didny ken if a had it in me to work through with him. A was getting on now and a wanted some fuckin normalcy, some happiness for once. The heart attack had put things in focus for us, and a knew if a let Simon in that door the now we'd row for a bit then screw about in ma marital bed and he'd freak out when Katrin got hame n tell me ad somehow tricked him intae it again. 

"I'll sit here aw night. I'm no leaving Mark, a need to talk to you." 

A planned on locking masel in the bathroom and huvin a long shower but he put his finger on the door bell n held it down, forcing me to go and open the door. 

"This is harassment. Al phone the polis, am no jokin. Please leave me alone." 

A made to shut the door again but he stuck his foot in it, lookin at me wae the big stupit lamp eyes he used when he was tryin to manipulate some cunt intae dain somethin they didny wanty. Usually me. 

"Geez thirty seconds, Mark, please." He hud a big bag with um which implied he wis planning on staying in Amsterdam and he looked pretty scruffy, his face a fuckin riot that made it clear he'd been scrapping. A didny say anything. 

"Am sorry I freaked out. I couldny help it, Begbie freaks me out. A telt um, like, about us. That's why a look like this." He pointed at his face. "You have to understand it fae ma point of view, Rents. Am no confident about it all like you. I want - " 

"This is your fuckin explanation? Dae you hear yourself when you speak? Get the fuck off ma property Simon am no kidding. A dinny want you. A dinny wanty see you again. Leave me alone. A dunno what language you need to hear it in, am no fuckin interested. Away ye go." A said and a closed the door on his gormless fuckin face starin at me like ad just booted a puppy in front ae um. 

It felt wrong sayin that tae um, that a wasny interested and that ad given up. Every inch ae me ached to go out there and be with him, take his word for it that he was just scared before, that he wanted to be different. 

A didny ken what it was like to be in the same vicinity as Simon and no be in sync, wrapped in the world we'd built for ourselves since childhood. When ad left those years ago a knew a was doing something unforgivable, aye, but a also knew we'd get through it if a ever went back. This, though. This was personal and it was final and it made me feel like a couldny breathe. 

A bit ae me decided that if he knocked again ad let him in and try and see wit happened. He didny, but. A stood there holding ma breath and he didny try again. A opened the door after a while but he wis gone. 

A hopped in the shower and gave masel a shake, puttin on some tunes and tryin to tamp down the desolation a could feel bubbling up ma throat. 

A was meant to be helping Matty out at the club tonight, we had a DJ from Ibiza in and it had sold out on pre-sale tickets. Matty had been good about me wantin to buy out ae the club, lettin me take ma time and not pushing anything after the heart attack. A couldny say no when he'd asked me to gie him a hand the night, no with all he'd done. Being there was the last thing a wanted the now but, especially with Simon in the city - but life had to go on. 

A got dressed and hud something to eat, chatting to Katrin for a bit when she arrived home. She could tell instantly something wis wrong wae us and a wanted so badly to tell her everything but a couldny, half because it was between me and him and that wis unspoken, half because she wis still ma wife and a couldny think ae the words. She wisny keen on me going out but she couldny bubble wrap me forever so she grudgingly wished me a good night, saying she'd leave her phone on loud incase a needed her. 

I would've been out on my arse weeks ago had a no taken ill and a was under nae illusions about that but a appreciated her care and compassion. A certainly couldny imagine being on ma own the now. 

A wasny drinkin the night and drugs were firmly off the cards, so a drank a cup ae tea before a headed down to the club and felt a wave ae sickness wash over me as a took stock ae what ad grown into and how things had turned out. 

\-- Simon --

I'd spent the whole plane journey thinkin of what I'd say to him, getting it down to a rehearsed speech - I was gonny tell him how ad felt since we were wee and how it terrified me - no largely because he was a man, but because ae the power he had ower me and how he'd left me before and I was constantly waiting on him leaving me again. 

When he opened the door to me I fucking panicked, started talking pish about Begbie and about Mark no understanding how hard it wis for me and all the rest ae it. I could hear it coming out my mouth and I was screaming inside, fuckin hating masel, hating him for being able to see right through me in every fucking way bar this, taking this at face value and letting me down in the process. 

He telt me he didny want me and he wasny interested and it was alright cos ad expected it, the whole time, since the first hand job, expected him no wanting me anymare, but I still felt blind panic coursing around ma system and my adrenalin surged and I was off, away from his door so I couldny make more ae an arse ae masel, across the street and down past the flower market to ma B&B, too distracted to care that the receptionist was clearly interested despite the state of ma face and that there were still skid marks in my toilet bowl. 

I got mysel to breathe regularly by doin some ae the exercises Nikki had taught me but afore long I had to take off out the room again, suddenly claustrophobic and feeling trapped. I made a beeline for the nearest coffee shop and smoked a joint. It didny take the edge off whatsoever, shitty fuckin Dutch gear. 

I headed down the red light and found masel in the strippers I'd been to when we came a few months ago. I ordered a couple ae shots and a pint and sat in the back ae the place, staring at the mingin carpet as ma brain whirred and I drew looks off the bouncers. 

A lassie tried to give me a lap dance a while in but it didny do much for me so a paid her and shucked her off us, instead ordering more booze and feeling myself slipping into the comforting blanket of drunkness. 

I was thrown out eventually. 

"This isn't a bar." the boy growled at me, ushering me into the street like I was a common fuckin urchin. 

I went in search ae some gear and got a couple of wraps of ching and some pills in this shady Dutch place that was playing British classics like 'Come On Eileen' to some sort ae European guitar thing. I met a couple of alright looking lassies in there who were finished work for the week and we took some gear together. I eventually started getting off with the blonde one whose name was Marta. She was a barry winch and kept whispering filthy shit in my ear, asking if I had any pals for Eva, her less braw pal. 

I was running on some sort of fucked up Sick Boy autopilot as I asked them for a threesome, even though the thought ae it turned ma stomach. They were aw coy, asking if we could go to another club first, and I telt them aye, I knew a place, my best friend was the owner. The gear was taking over and it seemed like a fool proof plan - ad go in there with these wee birds, make Mark jealous, win him back in a second. It was genius. 

I couldny hail a taxi to save ma life - who knew ye needed a fuckin technique in Amsterdam ae all places - so we got in one of those stupit rickshaws and I telt the driver the name of the club, taking my time necking with Eva then Marta then back, knowing a wasny very good cos ad nae coordination as I was that fucked up but needing touch anyway, needing to no feel alone. 

"The guy that owns this place, ma best friend," a started saying, wee bit shocked at the tone of ma voice, "He's a fuckin cunt. Posh prick. Moved over here after robbing me and all ma pals twenty year ago." 

"That is horrible Simon... are you sure you want to go here? I know another place - " 

"Naw, it's fine, he's fine. We're fine." A was saying, grabbing Marta's face and kissing her, suddenly no keen on discussing him. A pulled the wrap out my pocket, taking a line up my nose in the middle of this rickshaw in the middle of the place where Renton had abandoned me no once but twice now. 

The rickshaw pulled up and there wis a huge queue outside the club. I stumbled out the bike thing, leaving the girls to pay the driver. I walked to the front of the queue, trying to push past the bouncer and was firmly knocked back. Cunt wis built like a fuckin cloud, no unlike Shrek if Shrek wis an Eastern European thug. 

"No chance, pal. Sold out; plus you've been fighting; and you're fucked. Go home." Shrek telt me in his stupid thick accent and I shook ma head at him, no understanding how he didn't know that I knew the owner, I knew the manager! A had to get in there. He wisny understanding ma plan. 

"I know the manager. Mark Renton. Get him out here." My voice didny sound like my own. It was high and a bit unhinged and I could hear Marta and Eva whispering behind me, probably embarrassed, pair ae cows. 

"Step away from here, right now. I'll phone the police and you'll be arrested." The boy said and turned away from me and I started getting angry, he wasny listening to me! He was ignoring me and I had to get in there, had to see if he was here, had to speak to him! And I was pushing at the bouncer, trying to get through the doors, no feeling it when he grabbed my arm like I was a fuckin doll and twisted me to the ground, no caring when the lassies screamed and started backing away, I was shouting for the fat oaf to let me up and that I'd be reporting him to his superiors, kicking and pushing against the ground callin fur someone to help me or ring the police starting to feel choked and like I couldny breathe again and aware I was greetin suddenly out of nowhere ma face in the cold wet fuckin cobbles ma heart pumping shouting MARK again and again and thinking I was gonny die like this probably gonna get squashed by this stupid fat piece of Dutch shit die on this fuckin pavement and ad never get to see Mark again and never get to see Leith again all because this ogre looking fuck wis squeezing me tryin to murder me and then Mark was there and he was kneeling over me and I was crying so embarrassing crying and I couldn't stop but I wis trying to speak to speak English mibby Italian feeling sick at the look on his face pure pity unyielding though no sympathy he didn't care he didny want us he was finished with me and I was saying please please don't leave me a love you a need you am scared and he was tugging me up and then pushing ma head between ma legs and telling me to breathe and someone was asking if he needed an ambulance but he said no and a was hyperventilating trying to grab his ankle or his wrist something so I could feel him and the bouncer wis shouting to keep ma hands to masel and Mark was telling him to shut up and grabbing ma hand and wrapping it around his wrist soas a could feel his pulse and a was saying a was sorry again so sorry and please could he change his mind and he was silent no speaking just ignoring me or mibby I couldny hear him over the drumming in ma ears and then he wis tugging me up and a was trying to wrap around him like just to melt inty him but he was pushin me away tellin me naw no here no the now and a was panicking he wasny arsed he didny care he didny care about me and he was takin me into the back and through the music and into the office and puttin me in the seat and tellin me to breathe, to breathe, to breathe, and I had both ma thumbs on his neck so I could feel him and that he wis alive, and I started to calm down, the ching still keeping ma heart up but at least a could breathe now and see and process. Nae one bothered us, it was just me an him in the room, him helping me breathe and stopping me crying and wiping ma face which hurt a wee bit with the bruises but I didny mind cos he was touching me and he was with me and it was us, just us, just how it should be. 

I tried to kiss him but he moved his head away and closed his eyes. 

"What've you taken?" He asked me instead. 

I shrugged. "I love you." 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sat back on his heels, forcing me to let go ae the hold I had on him. 

"You're only saying that because you're fucked." 

"No am no. I mean it. I mean it I mean it I mean it." 

He stood up and crossed the room, puttin space between us, makin ma chest constrict again. 

"Stop moving away from me," a grumbled, making to follow him. He stretched his arm out in front ae him wae his palm upturned. 

"Please, Simon, please give me space. A canny think properly with you close to me like this." 

I could feel my face crumbling and my heart fuckin burning, felt like I would never be happy again. How had a fucked this up so badly? How had a managed to fuckin do this to us? I started slapping masel in the head and then I was on ma knees and screaming into the carpet in frustration and he was on me again, pulling ma arms down and crying himself and finally, fuckin finally lettin me line ma body up wae his, smell his skin, feel his warmth, and he wis holding me together like a was cut to ribbons and if he let me go ad fall apart all over the floor. 

I clung to him like a limpet, running ma tongue along the sheen of sweat that was covering his collarbones, feeling so out ae control and like I was standing on a precipice, inches away from tumbling into oblivion. 

"A need to get you home." He murmured into ma hair and a nodded against him, no making any move to extricate myself. "Where are you staying?" 

"A hotel. Near flower market." 

"Aye, which wan?" 

"Eh... Hotel something. Starts with an N. Hotel Nes." 

"Alright. I'll get you a taxi and get you settled in. C'mon up." He shifted under me and a froze. 

"Dinny leave me." 

He pulled back and looked me in the eyes and he looked sad, so fuckin sad, so why was he dain this if he was sad as well? 

"Al no. No the night. But we canny go on like this." 

I decided to take it and deal wae the rest the morra or the next day when a wasny dealin with what promised to be a stoater of a hangover. We got up and a tried to kiss him again but he just pushed me away gently, motioning me to leave the office. We left and made our way past the clubbers, past the bouncers who were glaring at me, askin Mark if he was alright. 

He hailed a cab with ease and we jumped in, me sliding over till a was all but on top ae um, holding one of his hands wi both of mine. He just looked out the window, the lights flashing across his emotionless face. He paid the driver and thanked him in Dutch, another part ae him I didny ken and didny want to ken. 

We went up the lift to ma room and Mark wrinkled his nose at the place when a flicked on the light, shrugging his coat off and toeing his shoes away. 

"Jesus Si, this place is a fuckin dump." 

"Best I could get at such short notice," I told him, standing in the doorway like some big fuckin statue. 

"Stop standing there like that, you're freaking me out. Fuckin hate when folk go all that still wey oan ching." He grumbled, unbuckling his belt and sitting on the side ae the bed. He tugged off his trousers and slid under the covers, sighing and staring at the ceiling. 

I wasny in the slightest tired, still a bit buzzed, but I switched off the light and followed suite, slid in beside him and moved to cover his body with mine, kissing his chest and feeling for the first time in weeks the ebbing of anxiety and loneliness from my mind. 

It took me a few moments to notice he was crying and a sat up, straddling him, ma hands on his cheeks, wiping away the tears, once again voice caught in ma throat. 

"You're killing me, Si," he whispered, tryin to cover his face wae his hands. "A canny take much more ae this." 

"I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry," I babbled, no sure what to say or how to say it. 

He stopped eventually, tugging me back down and pulling the covers up over us, running a hand through ma hair and scratching ma scalp until, to ma surprise, I fell inty a deep sleep. 

\-- Renton -- 

A slept the best a had done since ad arrived back in Amsterdam, much to ma fuckin irritation as a was after all tryin to wean masel off the cunt. 

A woke up first, the clammy heat ae his body bringing me round. Last night had freaked me the fuck out, the sheer state he wis in. He wis havin some sort ae gear fuelled panic attack and the fuckin bouncers had been suffocatin the poor bastard, all he was needin wis a bit ae touch and, a suppose, me. 

A wanted to believe him, you've nae idea, a wanted so fuckin badly to believe wit he wis sayin last night. A promised masel tho, promised I'd no be reeled in again. A woke him up by tuggin on his hair and runnin ma fingers ower his neck, way a used to do when we lived in the monty street flat and a knew he wis sick comin off the junk and all a wanted was to let him sleep the pain aff but needed him conscious for witever reason. 

He woke up wi a start, takin stock ae where he wis and who wis underneath ae him, goin still as witever recollection he had ae last night came back to um. He sat up eventually, still on top ae me, stretching out n lookin down at me wae an unreadable expression. 

He wis hard in his boxers, morning wood, and afore a could stop masel a bucked ma hips a few times, just cos it wis a novelty to huv him sat cowgirl on me and a wanted to imagine how it wid feel huvin him ride us. 

His breath caught in response, his eyes darkenin in that way ae his, grinding his hips down to meet mine. A couldae punched masel for initiating this, but a also reasoned that if this wis the last time then a deserved at least one good memory to take wae me. 

A got hard really fast, and he just ground back n forward on us for a bit, his right hand on ma chest, his eyes never movin off mine. He surprised us baith when he moved a hand behind himsel and started prepping himsel, something we'd no done before, no ever. 

"Si. We've nae lube." A croaked, and he shook his head that it didny matter, brows furrowing in concentration as he stretched himsel out. "Jesus, at least spit on it," a said, and he brought his hand round and did just that, makin me groan and close ma eyes cos he was just too ridiculous, too ridiculously fuckin hot for both of our own good. 

He had to lift himsel off me to remove his underwear and a did the same, pissed off at the momentary lack ae contact. When he sat back down there wis nae barriers between us and he spat on ma cock, fuckin filthy as ye like, never seen nout like it, lining it up behind him and slowly, painfully slowly, sliding down. 

A was fuckin mesmerised by him, the look ae pure determination on his face, his bottom lip between his white teeth, his brows crossed, his chest rising n falling heavily. A couldny speak or move, just lost to the sensation ae havin him around me and on top ae me and so beautiful, so fuckin gorgeous, because even wae a bruised up face he wis still like a fuckin supermodel, always had been, always had driven me fuckin crazy. 

He waited a couple ae moments when he had taken enough n then started moving, usin his hand on ma chest as leverage, slowly fuckin himsel on me, just the two ae us and nothing else. 

A must've looked fuckin moronic just lyin there, starin at him, too feart to move or talk or touch him incase it wis a dream and a would wake masel up and he'd still be in Edinburgh and ad still be on ma ain. A just gawped at um, staring as a took in the way he looked when he wis like this, storing it in ma memory. 

He slid a hand down and started pullin himsel off and a had to close ma eyes and think ae shaggin Donald fuckin Trump no to blow ma load, only openin them when he started whining cos he wis gettin close but also too tired to keep up his pace. A gripped his hips and started fucking into him, prayin to whoever wis out there that he'd go soon cos a wasny gonny last, wasny gonny - 

He came so breathtakingly, his face that picture ae bliss and peace that had made me fall for him all they years ago, face that would put they paintings in the fuckin Louvre to shame. A sob caught in ma throat as a thought about this bein the last time a wid see him like this, but then a was coming, mouthing his name into the room, whiting out completely. 

He rolled off me and we caught our breath, our fingers meeting in the middle ae the bed. 

"A think we should move away together. To America mibby." 

It took me a second to register that he wis talkin to me and that he wis serious. A sat up so fast ma head spun a bit. 

"Sorry? When did we agree on that? Am still no happy wi ye, Si. You've done nout to show me you're serious." 

He looked confused as fuck which broke ma heart and frustrated me in equal measure. 

"Ih? A thought... a told ye last night..." 

"Naw, ye turned up at ma work fucked and made a scene and babbled shite for a bit. You're no seein this fae ma point ae view. The way a see it, you view me as some sort ae exotic sex ye kin get on tap n am nae good for anythin else other thin that. Am sick ae it." 

A didny really mean that, as a knew he cared, anyone who wis around us five minutes knew he did, but a couldny help it coming out. A was annoyed that he thought a wis so easy; and a was easy when it came to him but that didny mean a didny deserve even some mock effort.

He looked like ad slapped him in the face. 

"I could not be more clear that that is not the case, Mark. Fuck, I can't believe... is that honestly what you think ae me? Am fuckin struggling here! I canny say wit am feelin, can you no comprehend that? When you took that money - " 

"Aw aye, here we fuckin go, wondered how long it wid take to get to that!" A shouted, jumping out the bed, fumbling about for ma jeans, pullin thum on inside out. "A fuckin canny believe this! Fuck you!" A was bellowing, shakin wi anger and disbelief. A couldny find ma socks so a shoved ma trainers on ma bare feet, marchin to the door. 

"Naw! That's no wit a was gonny say!" He was shoutin over me and a just did not want to hear it. 

"Huv a nice life, Simon. Cheers fur the shag." A sounded fuckin evil and a hated masel fur it, slamming the door to the grotty wee hotel room and slamming ma finger repeatedly into the lift button, willing it to hurry the fuck up. 

There wis a part ae me, wee tiny part, tellin me a wis being childish and that we were havin these problems because we refused to communicate like adults. A telt that part to fuck up and stormed up the street, booting ower a box ae tulips outside some cunts stupid Dutch front door. 

\-- Simon -- 

I went straight home. There wis nothing I could say that he would listen to - he wis stubborn and obviously wanted to make himsel unhappy and the longer I stuck around in Amsterdam the worse I made myself. 

All I wanted to do wis lie in my bed and vegetate, but I needed to go to the fuckin pub and stand behind the fuckin bar and pull pints of fuckin Guinness for old fuckin men. It became ma mundane routine - wake up, shower, pull a couple a pints, go home, sleep, repeat. I telt the cast of the porno I didny want them filming in the pub anymore and signed responsibility for the venture ower to Nikki, who protested for about a second then gleefully started bossing folk about on her phone. 

I never heard from Renton. He didny check in on me, didny leave any messages. It made it easier to justify trying to move on in ma head but still hurt like a bitch. 

I was in the middle of my routine, staring at the rotten ceiling and wondering how much I could sell this dump for when Spud came in, still looking like a fuckin junky. 

"Alright Simon?" He asked, pulling up a bar stool and sitting down. 

"Danny." 

"Heard about you and Franco, man! Frank's gunning for that Juice Terry cat now likesy, ye better watch yer back's aw am sayin. No nice like, no nice, dunno how we canny aw just be pals - " 

"I've been fucking Mark Renton since we were in our twenties and I telt Begbie and he didny like it." Ma voice was deadpan but it felt good telling Spud. 

His eyes were soft and no at all judgemental. "Aye, Franco did mention... aw the rest ae us kent, like, if it makes any difference. Nae one cared, just aw wanted tae gie yees yer privacy likesy. That's how everyone thought you were in it when he done that runner." 

I cringed internally that everyone hud known. I wanted to ask if even the lassies had kent but knew that wis what had pushed Renton away fae us - ma paranoia and fuckin ego. I swallowed the question. 

"Aye, well he fuckin hates me now Spud. Disny want nout to do with me. Suppose tellin Begbie wis a waste ae fuckin time." 

"Nah Catboy, nah... Renton couldny hate you. No you." 

"He does. He thinks am embarrassed ae um. i suppose I am, a wee bit - no ae him, just of folk thinking of me like that. I wis willing to deal with it but he's no interested." 

I dunno why I was spilling my guts to this fuckin idiot but I had nout to lose and it felt good to talk about it. 

"Have ye telt him? Ye should tell him that ye wanty tell folk n that ur no ashamed ae um likesy." 

"I can't find the words. I panic and I can't tell him." 

"Write tae um then! It's no hard, pen tae paper, inty a wee envelope, boom - letter box and then he kens, kens everythin yer thinkin n that. Tell everyone ye kin then write um a wee letter!" 

It wisny a bad idea actually, and one ad no thought of. I poured Spud a pint in thanks and didny say anything more, just mulling over the idea. I contemplated telling more folk too, just to show Mark I was serious and meant it. I also considered telling nae cunt but just tellin him I had but a knew he'd know a was lying, so I locked up the Port Sunshine a short while later, sending Spud on his way with a £20 tap, and made ma way up the bridges to ma Ma's. 

Thankfully my Dad wisny in and a had her to myself. She looked excited when a telt her we needed to talk, probably thinkin I wis gonny make her a Granny again, this time closer to hame. 

A told her I had feelings for wee Mark Renton from the Fort and that he made us happy and that all I wanted wis to spend ma life with him and she cried softly as she held me, just tellin me aw she wanted wis me to be happy, and that she'd no tell ma Da unless I wanted her to. That wis a step ad no go to even for Renton so I thanked her and helped her make dinner, feelin like a wee boy again as she telt me just how much salt to add to the pasta, the right amount ae oil to put in the salad. 

I had to leave eventually and I nipped into Tesco for some stationary and a couple ae cans. When I got home I was at a loss - didny ken what the fuck to write or where to start. 

I drank a bit to try an loosen up the old brain but still nout wis coming. I went for a walk, up Monty street, an stared up at the flat for a while, feelin our memories all around me, overwhelming me with how much I needed him and needed it to work out. 

I headed home wae ma hood up incase I encountered the moustachioed psychopath and picked up the pen, adamant this letter wis getting sent, and sent in the morning. 

\-- Renton -- 

A did eventually have to leave the apartment ad shared wae Katrin, so a wis on Matty's couch for the time being. A didny huv the energy to look for a new place the now, and aw a wanted to do wis get high every day n lounge about in Matty's flat. 

I wis on his couch in my boxers watching fuckin BBC News when he came in after a shift in the club, shaking his head at me. 

"Give yourself a fucking shake, mate. This isn't healthy." He chucked some envelopes at me. "Katrin dropped these off at the club. Your mail." 

A looked at it. Couple of bills, some junk mail, but a written letter too. Ma heart clenched. It wis postmarked from the UK, and it wis either from ma Ma, who wrote to us from time to time, or it wis from Simon.

A leapt up and pulled on some clobber, no wantin to be in here when a opened it. A shouted to Matty that a wis goin out and took the letter down to the canal, sittin on a bench outside n no feelin the cold ae the night as ma mind raced at the thought ae wit wis in this letter. 

A almost didn't open it. Ad be sendin masel back to square one if a did, and a didny ken wit he could say that wid change ma mind. A didny think he had it in him to tell me wit a needed to hear in order to change aw this. 

A opened it anyway. 

Mark, 

I don't know where to start with this. I've been staring at the paper for ages thinking about how much I feel and how there isn't enough paper to put it down. I always hated writing, mind when we were at that rehab place and they wanted us to write in they diaries? I used to read yours when you were asleep, so I could understand you a bit better like. You were always such a strange guy, no one knew you properly. I used to be so fuckin proud that I generally knew you better than anyone, that you'd chosen to let me in a bit more. Begbie and that used to ask me when they didn't know what was going on with you and I'd fucking glow with pride cos I usually knew pretty close to the mark. I was so proud of how clever you were. I used to work myself up panicking about you leaving me behind because you had the uni and those opportunities and I had nout, just had what I could get through scamming and shagging birds. I was good at it and it allowed me to keep myself busy when you weren't there. That's why I didny mind skag. It was so fucking selfish but it kept you with me. I had been in love with you since we were so young, Mark, just kids. I was terrified of it. It made the inevitability of you leaving me harder. I'd built myself around you and I didn't know who I was if I wasn't living my life in relation to yours. You anchored me and made me feel less alone. When we started fooling around I almost couldn't breathe with the fear - fear of what it made me and what people would think and how much worse it was going to hurt when you were done with me. I hated you, fucking hated you, for making me feel that way. I hated you for getting with other people and being in London all that time and just taking it all in your stride while I was freaking out. I hated you for leaving that night. Not because of the money, but because you had left me on my own. I was humiliated. Everyone treat me like I was glass, knowing that it was one thing you running out on Begbie and Spud but another thing running out on me. I learned to live with it, aye, but it was hard. When I found out where you were there wasn't even a question of me coming after you - I was on the flight before I could think twice about it. I wanted, so fucking badly, wanted things to be different between us. I thought this time we could be together rather than friends who got each other off. I got too scared and fucked it up. I took too much coke to try and stop the love I was feeling from consuming me. I wanted to remain in control but I wasn't, and I was waiting for you leaving again, because you'd done it before and we hadn't changed and you're still out of my league. I wanted you to see through what I was doing and not make me say any of this because you just understood it but you didn't, and I couldn't stop pushing you away, and it all got away from me. I love you, though. I am in love with you. You don't make me a better person, and you don't make me want to change. You make me comfortable with who I am. There's no side of me you don't know and that you choose to be with me, on whatever level, tells me that I deserve love just as I am. I've never been good at being good but you make me feel like that's okay, and who I am is enough. I don't know if you'll get this or respond or care, but I wanted to tell you how I feel. I told my Ma about us and about me. I'm going to tell more people, if that's okay with you. Spud says everyone already knew. I don't care if they did. I want whatever you want to give me. However much of your time I can get, I'll take. I don't know what it's like to exist and not go to you, wherever I can, wherever you are. I'm sorry I fucked it up so badly and that I can't be perfect for you. I hope this makes sense. 

I love you. 

Ps. This is Simon by the way   
PPS. You left your socks in my room. I'll hold onto them for you. 

A read it a good two or three times. The first time a was convinced it wis a joke that he wis playing on me, then a felt pure sadness, then a was angry that he'd left it this late to tell me all this. 

As a looked up flights to Edinburgh on ma phone I felt like a stupid Hollywood cliché, but fuck was he worth it. 

\--------------------------------- 

It was late evening and Simon was playing pool by himself in his pub, counting down the seconds till he could close up and go home and go the fuck to sleep. They hadn't had any customers for a few hours now, and Simon had told Mo just to go home and spend some time with her son. She'd not been happy about losing a couple hours pay, but it was better than hanging around with Simon, who had become like the walking dead since his trip to Amsterdam. 

The door opened and Simon glanced up, annoyed that he now had to deal with a punter. He double took when he saw that it was Renton, closing the door softly behind himself and smiling tight lipped at his friend. 

"Hullo Mark." Simon said gently, pool cue frozen in the air. 

"Simon. A got your letter." Mark came to stand in front of him. "It was lovely."

Simon's face heat up. "Eh, thanks. I thought you should know how I felt. Spud gave me the idea." 

Mark laughed. "Spud? For such a dippit cunt, he always was quite smart." 

They looked at each other for a moment, and Mark broke the silence first. 

"Am no too good for you. That's the stupidest thing av ever heard, Si. The difference wae us was that a took exams whilst you were busy living your life. It didny make me any better than you." 

Simon's eyes were trained on his shoes, no able to look at Mark as his deepest insecurities were dissected in the middle of his Auntie's old boozer. 

Mark approached him and put a hand on his face, forcing him to make eye contact. 

"It's you n me. Just you and me, Simon. I love you." 

Then he kissed him, and they were fumbling at each other's clothes, too many layers between them and too much wasted time between them to be doing anything but touching each other everywhere they could, as much as they could. 

Simon laid Mark back on the pool table like he was a priceless piece of art, taking his time just tasting his skin and savouring the sounds he made when he was happy like this, a big ginger purring cat that Simon would've done anything for, anything in the world. 

They used lube left over from Seven Brothers and by some incredible stroke of luck - or just the unpopularity of the Port Sunshine - no one bothered them, no that they'd have noticed if anyone had. They made love slowly and carefully, neither one holding back what they wanted to say or do or feel. 

As they lay there, on that table, together properly and at home in each other and even in Leith, they knew that they'd be alright. Begbie, their friends and family - they'd get through it together, because it was the two of them against the world. Renton and Sick Boy; Mark and Simon - there was nothing they couldn't achieve together. Whether they remained in their little corner of Scotland or travelled off on a new endeavor, they would be bound together through experience and similarity and love, and for both of them, that was enough. 

 

\----------- 

"Looking up to the munificence and radiance of the stars, Renton feels exalted, like he's been rewarded with a kind of eternal childhood; the idea that the whole earth was his to inherit, and to share with every human spirit. Soon he'll be free again. He recalls how, at the end of his life, Nietzsche realised that you couldn't simply turn your back on nihilism; you had to live through it and hopefully emerge out the other side, leaving it behind. 

Sick Boy perceives himself as prisoner of his own lying lips. Standing every day at the shaving mirror, watching those eyes grow colder and more pitiless in face of the drug's dictates and the world's brutal coarseness. But it's the lies he's told to himself and others that permit him this extravagance. Now he feels something poignant stirring in his soul, and this time he realises in elation that it might even be a truth trying to bubble to the surface. He coughs it shakily from his throat. — One thing, Mark, ah know that whatever happens, whatever stunts either ay us pull, it'll always be you n me, backing each other up, he contends, his chest slowly rising and falling. — We'll get through this the gither, and he walks into the stair, compelling Renton to follow. 

They look at each other for a frozen second, into which all time collapses." -- Irvine Welsh, Skagboys (2012) Random House, p547

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been so much fun to write and I've loved getting to indulge in the world of Trainspotting over the past few weeks. 
> 
> I've been a reader of fanfic for a while but never felt compelled to write my own, until the dearth of Renton/Sick Boy out there forced me to pick up the pen so to speak. I'm so grateful to everyone who's let me do so and made me so happy with such lovely comments - I am eternally grateful!


End file.
